


Era of Chaos

by Sissadora



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: A mysterious paladin, Action/Adventure, An innocent priestess, Blood Elves, F/M, Happens during the Burning Crusade, Original Character(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 47,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7186922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sissadora/pseuds/Sissadora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apsara, a novice sin'dorei priestess and the scion of the Elenn family, leaves the family manor to stretch her wings. Soon she meets a mysterious, tall blood elf paladin who claims to have been hired as her bodyguard. Under Baile's tutelage she could learn much - but something seems off about him. Who is he and what is he after? In-progress. C&C appreciated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This is a cross post from fanfiction.net to net my story a wider audience. C&C is much welcome!

The midday rush was in full when Apsara stepped through the high arching front gates of Silvermoon, trying to get her bearings in the mass of blood elves, Forsaken, occasional Tauren and the rare orc. She quickly patted her light blue robes to get the dust of the road off them and adjusted her magical pouches, trying to remember which way she'd been instructed to go.

Above the heads of the crowd she could see the beautiful pale marble walls of the high buildings, their intricate detailing done in shades of gold, dark red and green. True to the blood elven style several magical trees, frozen in perpetual autumn with their leaves bright orange and golden yellow, stood guard by buildings and were displayed as center pieces in plazas that were popular meeting places for the population. Stone arches that connected the buildings loomed above the heads of the market-goers, colorful banners hanging everywhere.

The young priestess glanced left and right, and chose to continue down the paved walkway towards east, not bothering to dodge the crowd, but demanding space every step – and many stepped out of her way trying to avoid causing a conflict with whichever family this seemingly noble blood elf came from. Apsara kept her jet black, waist-long hair tied back with an ornate metallic accessory that carried the Elenn family seal. She'd dressed in the robes of a novice priestess, but kept most of her magical trinkets richly on display, making certain that whoever thought about crossing her would think so twice. Even though the young blood elf was slight of build and seemed to barely be of age, to a passerby she had almost a royal look to her, with her determined gaze staring ahead with an intensity of someone who knew exactly what she needed to do.

She passed a group of emissaries and heard a nasal voice above the crowd complaining. “Enough of this roundabout tour of yours! This is certainly no way to treat Lady Sylvanas's emissary!”  
Apsara glanced the group's way and saw a flustered Forsaken glaring at a coolly calm, tall blood elf man who merely crossed his arms and replied “The Lord Regent will see you as soon as his time allows. Now, as I was saying, this way we have... “ The tour guide turned on his heels, leaving the already-thin Forsaken looking deflated in his wake.

With a slight chuckle Apsara continued her way, following the map she'd memorized. The midday sun was burning down with full force, and the priestess was glad to enter the shade under an arched dome, a walkway along which several blood elves were chatting and displaying their magical wares. Her heeled sandals clicked against the polished stone, causing more than one person look at her way, often with a glance of calculating hunger.

Ignoring the obvious greed of the street peddlers, she walked past them and ignored their hoots and calls, heading straight for a room at the end of the shaded walkway. As she walked the edge of The Royal Exchange, she smiled to herself. She had been looking forward to being allowed to head out without any of her family members around her, and the freedom was intoxicating.

In the distance she heard clinking sounds and loud chatter, which hinted to her that she was going in the right direction. Apsara saw two blood elf men leaning over a table on which several large gemstones and pieces of metal were meticulously sorted, and obviously they were trying to come to an agreement about something with each other. They didn't see or hear her over the din caused by one of the men hitting a long, glittery strip of metal with a hammer so the priestess decided to enter unannounced. She took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold, eyeing the room with curiosity. The soft glow of tens fist-sized hanging magical globes lit up the room, and many intricate tools hung on the walls of the jewelsmith’s workshop. In the back of the room Apsara saw a beautifully carved ramp leading to a loft above the working space.

Just as she was about to raise her voice to greet the men, a small explosion caused the strip of metal shatter into little pieces, and both of the jewelsmiths groaned in unison.

“Why would you do that?! That piece was commissioned to be ready TODAY!” The blood elf who spoke glared at his companion. His short, blond hair was shaped as little spikes which gave Apsara an impression of an angry hedgehog. His counterpart, the short blood elf with the hammer, who had his red-tinted hair hanging loosely to his shoulders, stared helplessly at what he'd done.

Apsara cleared her throat and the two men whirled to face her.

“I did not mean to interrupt your chat, but... am I looking at Millon Brightblade and Nel Silvercut?” She asked, ignoring the half-startled, half-angry stares.

“Millon Brightblade at your service, my lady...?” Answered the blonde-haired one, quickly bowing to her.

“Apsara Elenn.” She replied, smiling at Nel charmingly. “I was enrolled here by my mother”.

“Of course. Lady Sathira told us to expect you!” The man Apsara expected to be Nel chimed in, quickly putting down the hammer and stealing a guilty glance at the smoking strip of metal. Millon muffled a groan and mentioned Nel to clean up the mess.

“Good. Then you know I'm planning on enrolling here. But I dare hope that a single dust enchantment won't prove too difficult a challenge for my tutor...” Apsara chuckled and saw Millon bristle, and Nel blush.

“Absolutely not, my lady. However, today I'm afraid we have our hands full. If I may be so direct, would you consider to stay at the inn tonight… “ The jewelsmith hesitated for a moment as he calculated just how much of this embarrassing fiasco would get back to Sathira Elenn, who was a major client of his. “On our costs of course - and come back for an orientation tomorrow?” Millon continued, his face a mask of politeness, though Apsara was quite certain the proud smith was swallowing down an angry comment or two. Nel was already trying to frantically gather more materials to try and rescue this doomed project.

She pursed her lips, looking at the frantic smith's assistant and the flustered smith himself, and finally nodded. “Certainly. I would not want to disturb your work.”

Millon bowed again, glancing at Nel. “You'll find the closest inn down the street. Just mention my name and you will find suitable accommodations, my lady.”

Apsara turned around, chuckling slightly, and stepped back out of the softly lit room into the dark hallway. Behind her she heard Nel and Millon continuing their noisy discussion, completely having forgotten the priestess for the time being. She had barely taken ten steps towards the plaza of Royal Exchange when she heard a low, soft voice from the shadows.

“Well met, lady Apsara.”

The priestess froze in her tracks, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. With a conscious effort she took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. It wasn’t likely an assassin-to-be would announce themselves before killing her, after all. “It seems you have the advantage. You know my name, but I don't know yours.” she said, glancing around.

From the shadows of a pillar stepped a male blood elf, full head and a half taller than the slight priestess. He wore a casual city dweller's outfit – a loose white blouse, dark brown pants and a pair of black leather boots, but there was nothing casual about his battle-ready posture or the way he carried himself. His long silver hair was tied back into an elegant ponytail behind his back that reached his shoulder blades, and a couple of strands that escaped that ponytail framed his angular face. Sharp cheekbones, well-groomed goatee, narrowed eyes and hawkish nose further pronounced his strict look. He had a single golden loop hanging from his right ear, she noted with a degree of fascination.

“I'm Baile.” He stopped several steps from her, looking Apsara in the eyes.

“Well met. Is there something I can help you with?” She asked, noting that her hand had unconsciously gone to a magic pouch hanging from her belt. She slowly relaxed her hands, willing them to hang in a relaxed manner at her sides. The pouch contained her wand, the most easily-reached piece of offensive equipment in her repertoire without calling on her magic, but attacking someone simply because they startled her would not be tolerated by the city’s golem guardians.

“In this case the question is how I will help you, lady.” Baile noted with slight amusement in his tone.

“I don't-” Apsara started.

“No, you don't. Turns out I'm a glorified bodyguard.” The tall elf said, interrupting her. His eyes flicked down and up again, as if appraising Apsara. She felt incredible uncomfortable under that gaze and before she knew it, she shifted her weight from leg to another.

Apsara raised her eyebrows, annoyed. “Why is that?”

The tall elf took a casual step closer. “Request from your honored mother. We know each other a way back.”

Apsara wasn’t quite sure whether to believe this tall stranger. “I have certainly not discussed the need for that with my... honored mother, lord Baile.” she snapped.

Baile crossed his muscular arms, tilting his head as if he were amused at the idea of having to play a bodyguard. “The world is a dangerous place. You will need my help.” he stated in a tone that implied he would accept no counter argument, a small smile forming on his lips.

Fuming, Apsara tried to gather her thoughts. She had a feeling that he was speaking the truth, but if her mother thought about pairing her up with this one against her will and in secret from her, she'd be sorely mistaken. Her choices of bodyguards would be her own to make. “I absolutely will not, lord Baile! Moreover, my mother entrusted my safety to myself when she let me leave the Elenn manor. I am an adult now!”

Suddenly Baile stepped right up to her and grabbed her wrist firmly. The grip on Apsara’s wrist was cold (why had did he have such cold hands?) and unyielding, and despite Apsara's protests, he started leading her down the hallway, pulling her through a doorway into a sizeable side alcove. Something akin to a cold jolt traveled up her arm.

Those kind of alcoves were the quiet spaces in the city, Apsara remembered her sisters and mother telling her, as she recovered from the shock of his touch. The alcove was furnished with a table and two chairs on one side, and in the center a small arrangement of purple floor pillows had been laid on a lush carpet that covered most of the floor of the room. The room was lit up by a pale blue chandelier hanging from the low ceiling.

Baile let go of her and indicated one of the large floor pillows that were arranged around a central table.

“Have a seat. We need to have a little chat.”

Shocked, Apsara obeyed. She plopped down unceremoniously and rubbed her cold wrist in circular motions to warm it up again, while Baile walked to the other side of the room.

“I know what you are thinking, lady Apsara. Regardless how it may seem, I apologize for leading you here like that. I realize that might not be the best of starts.” Baile admitted, finally settling to lean against the wall, seemingly more at ease in the shadows. “However, the 'instructions'... “ he almost growled the word, as if he didn't like it, “were entirely clear to me. I am not to let you from my sight. And I am to protect you from any harm.”

Apsara opened and closed her mouth in an attempt to voice her thoughts. Anger was rising in her now, redness creeping down her pointed ears and towards her face. Sathira had simply given her instructions about things she should do before the end of the summer, handed her a coin pouch and supplies for her journey, wherever she decided to go to spread her wings with her spare time. Thinking back to the moment, her mother had indeed seemed a bit too agreeable in the doorway of the Elenn manor, waving her goodbye with her usual mysterious smile.  
“And that is what I am going to do.” Baile finished his statement, locking gazes with Apsara.

“And you feel like it's your right to drag your client around like a 2 silver sack of potatoes? I did not think so!” Apsara finally retorted, knowing that her emotions were easy to read from her face. Embarrassment. Anger. Frustration. She felt it all, and she thought she had been silly to believe she would be allowed into the wide world alone.

Baile burst into laughter - the kind that grated on Apsara's nerves worse than her tutor's nails on a chalkboard back home. She shot the other elf a haughty glare from her floor pillow.  
“Now that's a daughter of Sathira if I ever saw one!” he finished with a final chortle, his laughter still echoing off the cold stone walls. Some of his pent-up anger had seemed to disappear with that bout of laughter.

Finally having had enough of being ridiculed by this stranger, Apsara stood up, turning towards the door. “I have enough of your condescending attitude, lord Baile.” She spat out the words. “Let my mother know I’ll be finding my own bodyguard!” she started, taking a step towards the door opening.

Quicker than she thought possible, Baile was next to her, grabbing her wrist again – this time painfully instead of gently. His grip was frosty iron – unyielding, uncompromising, unwavering and almost unnaturally cold. “I have had enough of you not listening to me.” He rumbled in warning as he leaned closer to Apsara, forcing her to look up at him – straight into those glowing green eyes. “The discussion is over. I'm your bodyguard, like it or not.” He let her go, almost as if embarrassed by this emotional outburst, and took a step back.

Baile then lowered his eyes and bowed. “Please accept my apology.” His body was rigid and stiff – it was clear the gesture didn’t come naturally to him, but he was making a monumental effort to appear subordinate.

Apsara stared at him, dumbfounded. She considered her options while absent-mindedly rubbing her wrist again. Could she ditch this annoying elf by playing a submissive maiden? It was worth a try.

She drew a deep breath and sighed, conjuring an agreeable expression on her face. “Very well. I'll accept your companionship. Make sure you don't get in the way.”

Baile straightened out and gestured her to lead on, his face unreadable. She was barely a step away when she felt Baile fall in step behind her and heard him murmur “And don't try running off. I'm pretty good at what I do.”

Apsara tensed, cursing herself inwardly. It's as if Baile heard her every thought! She thought she heard a chuckle when she stomped on towards the inn. Crossing the wide plaza of Royal Exchange with her new bodyguard in tow, she hardly had the time or the energy to admire the beauty of Silvermoon. Enchanted brooms swept away at the nonexistent street dust, startling a black cat that lounged in the shade of the tree as they passed.

The duo entered the inn and Baile motioned Apsara to take a place at the bar. “I will take care of the rooms,” he offered and marched off before she could get a word in edgewise. She shook her head but did as bade, sitting down on a bar stool and ordering herself a cool glass of sweetened water. The barkeep, a long-haired brunette, but otherwise plain sin’dorei, kept shooting sidelong glances at Baile as he talked with the innkeep. She watched him smile in a truly friendly way with the innkeep and clasp wrists with him like old comrades. The innkeep smiled in response and nodded as Baile turned to walk to the priestess.

Apsara quickly averted her gaze and turned back to her drink. Baile came to a halt next to her and sat on a chair next to hers.

The barkeep flashed a white-toothed smile as he sat down. “And what would you like, sir?” she inquired in a sweet tone.

Baile leaned forward, smiling back at the woman. “Might I have a glass of Suntouched Special Reserve?” he asked sweetly – almost deceptively sweetly! – as he rested his elbows on the bar.

The barkeep’s face blanched and her eyes flicked towards the innkeep. “I’ll.. have to see if there’s still a bottle of it somewhere” she replied as she folded away her rag. “I’ll be right back.” She hurried away, frantically trying to locate the bottle of the mysterious liquor Apsara had never heard of.

“Well then, lady Apsara.” Baile started, turning back to her. His overly sweet demeanor had gone back to cool politeness. “What is our plan?”

Apsara put her glass down on the counter. “Well, I do have a bit of a … task list before I am officially free to do what I will until the end of the summer.” She replied, running her thumb over the edge of the glass and avoiding Baile’s intense gaze.

Her trip would take her from Silvermoon to Undercity with teleportation, and further dealings with the Forsaken were expected of her in the vicinity of Tarren Mill. The Elenn family had trade agreements and other duties to uphold, after all. Even when it was with the less than agreeable Forsaken. Apsara suppressed a shiver. And now with Baile in the mix, she was sure he’d be right behind her for each and every one.

“Lady Apsara, I’m a bodyguard, not a babysitter.” Baile remarked with a touch of humor in his low voice.

The priestess turned her head to look at him. Her unease at his ability to seemingly divine her thoughts and intentions grew.

“I do understand Sathira has her... “He paused to look for a correct word.”…requirements, but this trip is about your training, is it not?”

“Of course.” Apsara nodded, curious. She tried to ignore the nagging feeling Baile knew more than he let on, without much success. Sooner or later she would have to know more about him to even the odds. “Are you a priest as well?”

“I am not.” The tall elf replied curtly. He tapped his fingers against the smooth surface of the bar, his expression neutral.

Apsara frowned slightly. It did make sense that he’d maybe be a trained warrior, with his musculature, but he seemed quite reluctant to talk about the subject. How was he supposed to train her? She hoped he didn’t expect her to act as his errand girl.

“I’ve been called… a paladin in the past.” Baile added, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

The priestess’s frown deepened. Have been called? She thought to herself, too polite to breach the issue openly, as the barkeep returned with a bottle in tow. She hurried behind the counter to show the bottle to them.

“My deepest thanks.” Baile graced her with one of his friendly smiles and handed off several clinking coins from his pocket. “We’ll be enjoying this in the lounge.”

The barkeep’s smile faltered somewhat as she bent to retrieve two glasses form under the bar and hand them to Baile. She positively pouted as she watched them, especially Baile, leave the bar.

Apsara obediently followed as Baile left the bar and ascended a spiraling ramp to a loft that oversaw part of the bar. The loft was decorated in a traditional Silvermoon style with sheer drapes in shades of blue and purple, comfortable pillows, low chairs, overstuffed bookcases and small tables scattered about. Many sets of the drapes separated the different seating areas, creating a few more private enclosures in the area, while others were more open and meant for more people. Baile chose a small, intimate area meant for two and put down the bottle and the glasses. He motioned her to sit in one of the low, comfortable chairs that had a small table in between them. Despite feeling suddenly intimidated by this strange elf, she found herself curious about him as well. There was a regal, controlled air about the man. Something refined, cultured and moreover, driven in his manner. His whole being commanded respect, and that was something Apsara had never seen in anyone. An enchanted harp was plucking away a lazy, quiet melody in another seating area, filling the quiet between the two elves. Apsara unbuckled her magical pouches from her belt and laid them next to the chair before sitting down and making herself comfortable. After the priestess sat, Baile seated himself across from her. He seemed to be appraising her.

“Not a 2 copper sack of potatoes, remember?” Apsara joked, trying to lighten the mood as she resisted the urge to squirm under that intense stare. “What is it?”

“I’m simply curious.”

With a practiced gesture Baile opened the bottle of wine and poured a modest amount into the two glasses. The priestess remained silent as he handed her a glass and then leaned back.

“Curious… of your potential.” He clarified, lifting his glass in a salute to her.

Holding the glass and leaning back in her chair, the priestess flashed a confident smile at him.

“I’ve been trained most of my life in the ways of healing, lord Baile. You will not find my abilities lacking, unless…” Apsara trailed off.

“Shadow magic does not come natural to you.” Baile concluded, rotating his wrist slowly to swirl the liquid his glass. He sniffed it, looking content.

She resisted the urge to bristle at him, despite the truth in his words. Her tendency wasn’t unique: most of her sisters – and a lot of Sin’dorei priests and priestesses she knew - were devoted to either form of magic available to them. Of the Elenn family, only their mother could say she was truly fluent in both shadow and holy magic, and then only because of continuous practice. For mages, it was easier to switch between forms of magic and they did so often to display their abilities. Some did end up devoting themselves to one type for ultimate mastery of an element, but combining the two took much less effort for the mages than it did due for the priests to the nature of the polar opposites priests dealt with.

“No.” she admitted, lowering her eyes to her wineglass and pretending to examine the amber liquid. She was feeling like a small child in their manor classroom again, and she much didn’t care for it.

Baile nodded knowingly. “Well, we’ll be training to have you just as good in either, if you so prefer. But for tonight…” he trailed off, smiling slightly at her and raising his glass once more. “For unlimited potential.”

Apsara looked up, raised her own glass in a polite salute and brought it to her lips to sip. The wine was nothing like she’d tasted before, both in taste and potency, she noted as she swallowed. The fruity taste seemed beyond expensive, which explained the blanching of the barkeep’s face downstairs. She suppressed a giggle over just how being smitten with Baile had cost the barkeep a huge chunk of her salary this month. The man was crafty; she had to give him that much.

The rest of the evening the two chatted away about current events and the comings and goings of the Elenn family. Baile strictly avoided talking about himself whenever he could, and Apsara became more and more intrigued about the tall man. She supposed she would have to wait to see him in action to see where his abilities lay.

At the end of the evening Baile guided Apsara to her room. She had had some of her belongings brought to the city and they had been neatly placed in a locker at the foot of the ornate single bed. Enchanted jewelry, her tailoring kit, and several vouchers for fabric were neatly tucked next to her clothing. Her mother had added something extra, she realized with a fond smile. Not that she wouldn’t try to ditch Baile every chance she got, but that was another thing.

Baile walked across the room and examined the table that had been placed by a window overseeing The Royal Exchange. He then proceeded to quickly survey the rest of the room and after he seemed satisfied with his findings, he turned towards the priestess.

“It seems your room is secure, my lady. Sleep well.”

“You too, lord Baile.”

Baile turned on his heels and headed out of the door, closing it behind him. The priestess disrobed and plopped down on the bed, exhausted. The day had been very odd, she noted to herself as she lay down, listening to the noises of the bypassers outside. There was always a party somewhere in Silvermoon, and tonight was no exception – happy laughter echoed across the plaza as young blood elves crossed from one party place to another.

As tiredness slowly forced her to close her eyes, she wondered just what lay in store for her. Ditching Baile within the confines of Silvermoon seemed impossible – he’d find her instantly in the city. Leaving him after they’d arrived in Undercity seemed like a better plan. For a moment she felt bad for him. Besides his temper getting the best of him earlier, he seemed straightforward and honest. He had many qualities many of her possible suitor candidates certainly didn’t. Snorting at herself, she rolled over to her side and settled into a comfortable position, ignoring the sound of footsteps outside her door. Maybe Baile had decided to visit the oh so pretty barkeep? Pushing the thought from her mind, she finally fell asleep.


	2. The Mystery Bodyguard

The next few days Apsara spent learning the basics of jewelcrafting under Millon Brightblade’s watchful eye as Baile ran his own errands, every now and then checking in with the priestess.

As their mornings began, Baile would usually disappear into the city, often heading in the direction of Farstriders’ Square. Figuring the muscular paladin was maybe sparring, or practicing a trade of his own, Apsara wondered if she should sneak up on him to see what he was doing but decided against it in the name of politeness. That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious! To her disappointment, the priestess hadn’t learned much of Baile since the two met, and having to deal with a near-stranger on a daily basis was making her feel uncomfortable.

Outside her jewelcrafting lessons, she spent a lot of time catching up with family friends, delivering notes and finally getting to see her childhood friend, Irin Silvershard. She and Irin had often played in the shade of the magical trees in the walled back garden of the Elenn manor when they were young, practiced their languages (neither of them could ever seem to master the pictoforms of Taur-ahe) and caused mischief around the house when they managed to get away from their chaperone on one cool spring afternoon.

Irin had grown to be a beauty – a muscled yet lean blood elf woman with short, blonde hair. The time they’d spent apart the last few years she’d worked on her leatherworking studies, supporting her father through the hard times after her mother’s death, and she’d become a trained huntress besides. She was dressed in form-fitting leather pants and vest she herself had skinned and worked into beautiful armor with pale yellow details, depicting phoenixes, mingled with decorative swirls on the front and back of her laced vest. The two sat down on the stairs across from the bank on the plaza named The Bazaar, just enjoying the company of one another. Irin had her loyal lynx, Firemane, stretching out at their feet and lazily watching the passers-by.

“So, I finally arrived a few days ago,” Apsara said. “And as I left the jewelsmith’s place, someone gave me a scare.”

Irin eyed her curiously. “Was it that silly Dalerus?”

The priestess shook her head, marveling the fact that she’d completely managed to forget about him.

Dalerus had been a childhood friend of Irin and Apsara who’d started his warlock training around the same time Apsara had begun as a novice priestess. Ever since then Dalerus had been full of vehemence towards Apsara, playing pranks and generally annoying her whenever he could. She had suspected his change of heart from an agreeable, easy to please young boy to a snippy, brooding warlock had been caused by his then-trainer, an odd Forsaken researcher by the name of Willow. She had always struck Apsara as odd and almost obsessed.

“No. I had never seen the man there in my life,” Apsara replied, shrugging her shoulders. “He stepped up to me, telling me my mother had hired him as my bodyguard.”

Irin raised an eyebrow, forming a surprised O with her mouth. “And then you gave him a piece of your mind and walked off?”

Apsara shook her head again and smiled wryly. “He was speaking the truth, Irin. He convinced me of it.” She rubbed her wrist where his fingers had felt so cold on her skin, eyeing the small group of Tauren heading towards the auction house, their hooves clattering on the red tiles of the plaza. Turning her gaze to Irin, whose green eyes glittered in the shadow as she seemed desperate to hear more, she laughed.

“Fine, fine! He’s… uh, a paladin. I think? About the tallest sin’dorei I’ve seen. White hair, white beard. Name’s Baile. Looks like he could kill with a glare,” Apsara listed, watching Irin almost bob up and down in excitement. “And he told me he knows my mother.”

Irin’s excitement died. She positively pouted, and this elicited another round of laughter from Apsara. “Ohh.. he’s old, then,” she whined and her shoulders slumped. “You have to camp out in the wilderness with an old man!”

The duo burst into laughter that startled Firemane. The lynx eyed them with annoyance, huffed and turned pointedly away from them to lay down again, as if embarrassed to be associated with the giggling blood elves.

“I’ve been waiting for this chance for so long, Irin! I don’t care if I have to share a tent with an orc, I just want to get out there!” Apsara finally said, wiping tears from her eyes.

Irin nodded at her. “I get it. Well, he’s going to make sure you’re not going to run headfirst into a pack of murlocs and get torn apart, I suppose.” She mimicked the watery gurgles of murlocs and reached out with her hands, waggling her fingers threateningly.

Apsara playfully smacked Irin’s hands away with her hand that was holding an imaginary wand. “Take that! And that!”

With a final chuckle, the best friends stood up and stretched. Day was turning into evening and the city’s magical lamps were turning on one by one, driving away the encroaching darkness. The commerce was dying down while the nighty celebrators started parading around in their expensive finery.

Having never belonged to the party crowd, Irin smirked as one of the ladies in her heavy robes tripped and fell on her face. The crowd around her burst to laughter and that continued for a while as the ashamed woman stood up and dusted her robes.

“I better get back to work and take Firemane for a stroll,” Irin said as she hugged her best friend tight. “You take care of yourself, Aps. Be careful. I’d hate to have to come drag you back home from some Sunwell-forsaken swamp out there.”

“I’ll be fine, Irin. I’ve gone through my paces, and I’ll finally get a chance to learn some combat skills on the field. And don’t forget; I have Baile with me.” Apsara hugged Irin back, making mock choking noises under the tight embrace of the huntress.

The two parted with a smile and a wave, Firemane jogging along excitedly. Apsara knew she’d miss the light-hearted huntress.  She made her way to the City Inn, walking briskly through the first corner of the Murder Row, realizing for the first time just how dangerous going out there could be if her self-assured friend was worried about her. Trying to get away from Baile’s watchful eye seemed less and less like a good idea.

A faint sense of fear nagged at her. She’d been warned of what was going on outside Quel’Thalas by so many of her teachers that she had almost started believing them instead of surrendering to her wanderlust. Wrinkling her nose in disgust at her own doubts, she decided to continue looking forward to her journey. _Bah, dangers and swamps and silly fears!_ She would make her mark as a priestess and as an Elenn and return victorious!

* * *

On the evening of the fourth day in the city Apsara arrived at The Silvermoon City Inn with Baile nowhere in sight. She shrugged to herself, thinking he might be running late, and got started on eating the dinner that the barkeep served in a room opposite of the bar on the ground floor of the inn.

Having made several small rings for selling, she made a mental note to leave these with the family banker before she left. They barely held the smallest spark of magic, mostly thanks to Nel’s demonstrations, but they weren’t too bad to look at. For someone who had barely picked up the craft, Apsara’s jewelcrafting abilities had come a long way, and she could just imagine one of those rare approving nods from her mother at her improvement.

She balanced a book about the properties of different precious metals in one hand as she nibbled on her portion of fried vegetables and a slice of young hawkstrider meat, ignoring the steadily rising chatter by the bar.

A group or blood elves were laughing and drinking, some of the more inebriated ones shooting curious glances her way. The barkeep kept the men company and flirted openly with a red-haired blood elf learning against the bar with a glass of wine in one hand. Apsara finished her dinner, feeling awkward and exposed, and quickly gathered her books. Once her belongings were safely in her travel satchel, she started heading towards the ramp to the upper floor.

The priestess almost bumped into one of the men who had wandered her way from the bar.

“Oh, excuse me, m’lady!” he exclaimed, smiling at her sweetly as he took a step back to put some distance between them. His lustrous caramel brown hair had been cut short and swept back with a special agent. His flashy, bright-colored outfit smelled faintly of spilled wine and expensive perfume.

Apsara answered his polite smile with one of her own. “No trouble, sir. I was just retiring for the night.”

“But the night is young, lady….?” His question hung in the air as he glanced her up and down. His gaze found her travel satchel which was filled to the point of breaking with books.

“The night is indeed young, but I’ve been studying all day, and I am quite tired.” She explained politely, tucking a final book under her arm as she started to step past him towards the ramp leading up to the lounge and the rooms.

The brown-haired youth swiftly sidestepped in front of her as she tried to pass him. Unease and annoyance lurched in Apsara’s stomach as she tried to keep her expression politely neutral.

“Surely you’ll be joining us for a glass and relax for a little!” The man drawled, mischief glittering in his eyes. “A deserved break from your hard work. I’ll buy you one. Or two. Or however many you want.” The Sin’dorei in front of her offered, his hand reaching out towards Apsara.

“You should put your hand back where it belongs before you lose it.”

Apsara and the young man glanced to the side and saw Baile brushing past the sheer cloth curtain leading to the less-often used doorway to the Murder Row. A greatsword was strapped to a weapon harness over his shoulder, and over his simple white blouse he wore a sleeveless, short chain mail shirt with a closure down the front, with sturdy, studded leather gloves, shin guards and boots to match. His armor didn’t bear the iconic colors of the sin’dorei - gold and red - but were instead muted:  dark, tarnished shade of dull bronze was used in the detailing and edges of metal, and the dyed leather was the kind of dark brown that almost looked black. In his armor he looked like a man ready to kill.

The force of Baile’s glare bore down on the young blood elf who simply sputtered and spun away from him. With a final scoff the intruder slinked back to his friends who burst into bellowing laughter, each and every one.

Baile turned back to Apsara. “My apologies, lady Apsara. I’ve been catching up on some training and simply seem to have forgotten the passage of time.” He bowed his head slightly.

“No, not at all. I’ve been very busy myself.” Relief washed over her as she relaxed. The paladin had a great timing, she mused. “I was planning on retiring for tonight. But… I’ve completed my base studies for Millon and our schedule opens up from tomorrow on.“

Baile nodded and gestured for her to head upstairs. As she complied, the group at the bar seemed to have forgotten all about them with the exception of the barkeep who kept her eyes on Baile as the duo passed.

Apsara entered her room and as she was putting her books away, Baile did his customary survey of the room. Finishing the inspection to his satisfaction, he began unstrapping his weapon and armor.

“I’ll help you with that,” Apsara suggested, turning from her book pile on the table.

“That’s not necessary. Please tell me where we’re heading tomorrow.” Baile laid down his sword and began undoing the closures on his chain mail. Apsara tried not to stare at the hypnotizing dance of his fingers but before she knew it, she was staring. She caught a whiff of freshly oiled leather from the padding of his chain mail.

“Apsara?” Baile was looking down as he was opening the last buckle and revealing a simple white shirt underneath.

“M-my apologies.” Feeling embarrassed, Apsara turned away, trying to locate a piece of paper from her book pile. The day had indeed been long and she found herself fumbling with the papers. “I’ve been asked to bring some contracts to our suppliers in Undercity. “ She recited as she tried to ignore the telltale feeling of an embarrassed blush creeping up her neck. “From there, I am to travel to Tarren Mill and catch up with a contact, actually.”

With a grunt, Baile finally pulled his armor off and suppressed a groan of pleasure as the weight was removed. He rolled his shoulders and stretched. “It’s going to be good to get moving again. If we are to head to Undercity for trade contracts, we are in no hurry. The Magic Quarter comes alive…” Baile chuckled at his own joke. “… just before noon anyway.”

Apsara nodded her assent, shuffling her papers and finally turning to face Baile again.

“Well, you can have the night off. I’ll be turning in, anyway.” She offered as she placed her papers back onto the pile they belonged.

Baile waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll be turning in, too.”

“As you wish. Sleep well, lord Baile.” 

Apsara watched him gather his gear and stride out. As the door closed, she released a breath she didn’t know she was holding and sat down by the desk. She leaned on the table with her elbows, staring out of the window.

The last few days Baile had simply let her be as she went about her business, but in the starting tomorrow she assumed they might have to trust each other in the battlefield. Thinking back to what she’d learned before leaving the Elenn manor, she remembered that the forests around Undercity were teeming with unfriendly wildlife, and Hillsbrad was an area of continuous conflict between the Horde and the Alliance. The danger had somewhat lessened in the last months, with most focus going out to some kind of a portal being opened in the south, but she suspected she would get to see it for herself before her journey was done.

With the conflict between the two warring factions raging unpredictably, Apsara had truly started doubting the wisdom of trying to leave Baile behind. She had no experience with navigating battlefields like that, and he’d been nothing but courteous after the first day. All would become clear if the opportunity presented itself, she decided.

She stood up with a final sigh. Her belongings wouldn’t gather herself, and tomorrow was going to be hard enough as it was.


	3. Chapter 3

The pair headed out several hours after sunrise. The clean, wide streets of Silvermoon were almost empty save for the occasional traveler, since surely many of the local partygoers were still sleeping off their hangovers. Sunlight streamed between the buildings, casting long shadows and occasionally basking the red and white streets in a warm yellow glow. The air was chilly and crisp, and the skies tantalizingly blue. Apsara regarded the tall buildings and colorful banners against the cloudless sky with a faint sense of trepidation, realizing that she was about to leave the safe confines of Silvermoon.

The thought both excited and also terrified her, both in equal measure.

Exiting the Royal Exchange to pass through Farstriders’ Square, many heads turned their way. Apsara wore a long grey priest robe with silver detailing around the hem and the waistline as well as the long, flowing sleeves, and Baile wore his near-black armor and towered over the dainty priestess. To all onlookers, the two made quite the pair, Apsara leading the duo with her chin held high and Baile just half a step behind her like a particularly imposing shadow, with the hilt of his greatsword poking out over his right shoulder. As they passed through the area, they saw dedicated warriors already busy with the wooden dummies and young blacksmiths and engineers working on their respective skills. Dull thuds of weapons hitting wood echoed off the walls of the buildings surrounding the square.

Apsara and Baile rose the stairs to the Court of the Sun. After rounding a corner they were greeted a fantastical view of the best that Silvermoon could offer: Sunfury Spire in all its glory. The priestess had completely forgotten about this part of the city, and it amazed her all the more. The view of the towering Sunfury Spite was staggering; the golden, domed ceilings of the different wings reaching many times the height of the tallest trees planted in the city.

A great fountain had been constructed, designed to be the centerpiece of the large courtyard. The fountain depicted tree-high statues of 3 beautiful sin’dorei women holding up a large bowl over their heads. Pristine clear water gushed forth from the bowl, cascading into a T-shaped deep pool that reached all the way near the entrance to Murder Row.

She could just see the beautifully groomed hedges edging the roof terraces way above their heads as they climbed the last set of stairs on the courtyard, rounding around the top end of the pool and setting their sights on the ramp leading up to the Spire itself. The ramp arched over a vast chasm that dropped hundreds of feet below. Seeing the sheer scale of the building, she realized the amount of magic that had been spent in making the place must have been nothing short of monumental, even for the High Elves of the time when the city was built.

Almost reverently, the pair padded up the wide ramp. Many guards, stoic of expression, dressed in red and gold and holding their large shields depicting phoenixes, flanked the sides of the entrance to the Spire. The awe-struck priestess knew she was being closely observed as she passed.

Entering a large round chamber lit by blue crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, often used as a meeting room for the leaders of the city, they saw that it was empty except for another set of guards posted at the sides. The Lord Regent was a busy man these days, Apsara thought to herself.

Rounding off a final set of ramps, the two climbed their way up to a platform in a smaller room. Soon the two were in front of the teleportation orb that would lead them to the ruined courtyard of Lordaeron.

“Ready, lady Apsara?” Baile asked her, small smile on his lips. Her bodyguard’s stare was oddly intense, as if he seemd to be gauging her up. Apsara took a deep breath, clutching the shoulder strap of the bag slung over her shoulder and eyed the teleportation orb curiously.

The device itself was a huge, red ball, its diameter roughly the average elf’s length, and it was mounted on an elaborate contraption of golden standards that was floating inches off the ground and rotated slowly with the aid of magic. The orb was glowing a soft light and emitted a hum.

This was the first step to seeing the world beyond Quel’Thalas’s borders. Excitement overtook her fear as she nodded to Baile. The priestess and her darkly clad bodyguard reached out to the orb to lay their hands flat to the surface. The glow of the orb multiplied, enveloping the duo in light and comfortable warmth as the teleportation spell activated. For a moment they floated, weightless, in the void between planes and time itself. The pleasant warmth of the spell disappeared as the two landed in a shadowed hallway.

Apsara almost stumbled, startled to be in a whole different place than just a few heartbeats before. Her bodyguard quickly extended a firm hand to support her as the slight dizziness dissipated.

“Teleportation is something that is hard to get used to. Are you all right?” He inquired, eyeing her cautiously.

It wasn’t the teleportation itself, but the destination that made Apsara feel ill. The place reeked of acrid smoke and of almost sickly sweet rot of dead plants in the autumn, with an undertone of something even worse. It reminded her of the time when the Elenn family cat, a cute black creature that she’d been, had drowned in a water barrel and had gone unnoticed for weeks. When they finally found the little critter’s body, she had been bloated beyond recognition and had smelled worse than anything Apsara had ever known.  Her stomach churned as she inhaled the strange air. Closing her eyes she willed herself to calm down.

After several moments of standing still Apsara nodded and opened her eyes, her stomach sufficiently settled. Baile chuckled and let go of her arm. “Let us proceed then.” He started down the dark hallway with Apsara following close behind, carefully observing the stone walls that had been Lordaeron a long time ago. Moss, ivy and a number of weeds grew thick in places, pushing past crumbling rock.

The entry part of the ruins comprised of several broken-down hallways and an open, overgrown courtyard everyone entering the city would have to go through. After crossing a creaky drawbridge the two entered a circular chamber with a long-forgotten throne, heading past old reliefs and crumbled remains of statues that had once stood there proudly. Baile strode to a doorway at the back of the chamber, Apsara close at his heels. Following him she found herself in another hallway that sloped downwards, and yet another circular chamber with multiple exits.

Picking one doorway, the tall elf led her to a large, circular elevator. Wincing to himself, he laid a hand on Apsara’s shoulder as the door closed. “This might feel a bit funny,” he warned just as the elevator began its descent.

The descent of the moving platform felt more like freefall to Apsara who involuntarily stiffened to stand as still as a statue. Air escaping the sides of the platform buffeted her robes and stung her eyes as they plunged deep underneath the old ruins. Just as her barely settled stomach started to protest again, the platform stopped, and another doorway appeared across from the initial entry door. The two exited, Apsara wobbly on her legs. Baile withdrew her hand from her shoulder.

Flanking the exit doors were large abominations: masses of greenish body parts, stitched together. They must have been humanoids of some kind a long time ago. A singular abomination towered over double the height of the blood elves and held a cleaver larger than Baile’s greatsword. Two round dead eyes turned to regard the pair as they passed, and Apsara suppressed a shiver. Attempting to not stare, she realized with horror that the stomach of the undead creature had been sliced open and nobody had bothered to stitch the wound closed. Dark blood covered whatever it was that spilled out of his gut.

She swore silently to herself that once she left the city, she’d never come back if she could help it.

“They could have fine-tuned the enchantment on that platform! Do these Forsaken have any clue just how nasty that feels?” Apsara complained quietly as she battled another, stronger wave of nausea. The smell intensified, and the priestess was almost sure she’d retch.

Baile chuckled and shook his head, pointedly not looking at her as she struggled with after effects of the platform ride. “You see, they don’t feel it the way we do. This is also a way to make an impression on people coming to the capital for the first time.”

He led her down a hallway to a huge antechamber. Wobbling after him, Apsara bit back a set of nasty curses about the Forsaken, the smell of this _shando_ city and their _shando_ guardians!

They arrived to a ledge that circled the edges of the upper half of the room.  A number of alcoves were set along on the outer edge of the ledge, and leading down from the ledge there were several, downward sloping bridges that led to a central structure adorned with skulls. Many people, especially Forsaken but also of other races of the Horde, went about their day on the middle level and descended the stairs to the bottom of the antechamber to exit from sets of doors which led to the different quarters of the city.

“You can say they did make an impression” Apsara mumbled indignantly. “It’s like an anthill, and a smelly one besides.” Tilting her head back she breathed a sigh of relief as her threatening nausea quelled to a queasy stomach. She wanted to be done with this place as soon as possible, since this smell would definitely make her either retch, pass out, or both. Apsara wasn’t sure which she preferred.

“You’ll get used to it.” Baile replied, leading her down the walkway and towards the Magic Quarter. They passed many Forsaken in early stages of undeath who seemed at a loss as to what they should do, and thus they just stood there quietly. Apsara felt sorry for them, but avoided eye contact, not quite sure what was expected of her, so she cast her eyes to the floor and tried to ignore the gnawing feeling of horror in her gut. She was growing cold, too – something about the presence of undeath made the hairs on her neck stand at end.

The two arrived at the Magic Quarter and the pair set off to follow the instructions written down on a piece of parchment Apsara pulled from her bag.

Most of the day the two spent navigating the maze-like city, visiting trainers, business partners and Sathira’s old friends alike. Baile shadowed Apsara as she went about her business exchanging pleasantries, practicing her Orcish, and purchasing items that would be bat-delivered to some of their family’s storage houses scattered in Eastern Kingdoms.

The trip also included a short visit to the local tailor. One of the virtues of the Forsaken was their ability to focus on a single thing for days, if not weeks at a time without needing sustenance to keep on working, and the diminutive man by the name of Josef Gregorian was no exception.

He had his shop set up in one of the small alcoves in the Magic Quarter, and seemed to be busy with an embroidery when Apsara finally stopped several feet away from him.

When Josef didn’t seem to realize she was there, Apsara tried catching his attention without startling the man and ruining his embroidery.

“Ahem.”

The Forsaken didn’t seem to hear her, or was simply too focused. Apsara glanced at Baile who shrugged his shoulders. She decided to try again, this time louder.

“AHEM!”

No reaction from Josef. His emaciated hand nimbly reached over to the next area on the piece of cloth and started a new stitch. Apsara’s eyebrows twitched. Baile crossed his arms and eyed the two with an amused smirk on his face.

“Excuse me-“

Josef’s stitching hand stilled and the Forsaken tilted his head upwards. His glowing, yellow eyes betrayed his annoyance.

“I heard you the first time. No need to start yelling,” Josef grumbled, reluctantly laying his embroidery hoop aside. “What can I do for you?”

Apsara resisted the urge to sigh, mostly because she detested the thought of inhaling any more of the rancid air than strictly necessary.

“I’m here about a commission. Should be filed under the name ‘Elenn’.” 

Josef stared into midair for a moment, as if recalling something. “Ah, of course,” he muttered, standing up and heading towards the crates at the back of his little alcove. “An extra important order, enchanted lace bracelets and a magical pouch. You out for some monster-slaying, girl?”

By now Josef was behind a pile of boxes, moving sacks around as he was trying to find the correct items.

“Actually, yes,” Apsara answered, refusing to look at Baile who she was sure was grinning at this point.

Short pause.

“You don’t seem like the type, if-you-don’t-mind-me-so-saying.”

Finally the Forsaken emerged from behind the crates, holding a small, wooden box and a shimmering, velvety drawstring pouch. “He does seem like the type, but that’s neither here nor there.” Josef nodded in Baile’s general direction. “Here you go, one pair of lace bracelets, enchanted, and your new and improved bag.” He handed the items to her.

“My deepest thanks.” Apsara handed a clinking bag of coins over in exchange. “There’s something extra included for your trouble, master Gregorian.” The priestess flashed her sweetest smile and bowed. Josef’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he bowed back clumsily.

With a swirl of her robes, Apsara headed off with Baile in tow.

* * *

 

Towards the evening the two were done with Apsara’s to-do list.

“If you don’t mind, I want to leave the city. I need fresh air.” Apsara sighed, obviously exhausted. Her grey robes had taken on a pale green hue from walking around Undercity, her slippers were ruined and she was certain she would need magic to wash off the stench of the city.

Baile nodded his agreement. “They have a serviceable inn in a small outpost just outside the city. We can rest there.”

Despite them having spent most of the day in the city, Baile seemed unfazed by anything they had seen. He kept a watchful eye on their surroundings and especially her as they were making their way back, not seeming tired or sick in the least. Either the man was especially resistant, could pretend like there was nothing wrong or he’d gone here a multitude of times before, Apsara reasoned as she watched him. Nothing in

The priestess followed her bodyguard in a state of exhaustion, trying to avoid stumbling on the hem of her robe. Going through the elevator ride up was almost as bad as the ride down had been, and Apsara doubled her pace to be as far away from the smells of the city as possible. As the two arrived in Brill and entered the crowded inn called Gallows’ End, Apsara breathed a sigh of relief. Getting out of Undercity had revitalized and warmed her somewhat, but she was in dire need of rest. At Baile’s pointed nod she sat down at a free table meant for two and observed her surroundings.

The inn had been constructed by the humans a long time ago. The timber used to build the place had faded to a sickly dark grey, and was looking quite worn in places. Spider webs covered the dusty windows – Apsara immediately gave up looking outside – and the flooring was creaky. Yet there was a fire in the hearth to keep the living guests warm, and someone was playing their lute in the corner in the hope of a few coins.

Mostly Forsaken seemed to spent time in the inn, with the occasional orc in between. There was music and laughter, and the place seemed lively enough – Apsara smiled at herself for that observation – as the night fell. Baile came back to her carrying two mugs and a wine bottle under his arm.

“Do not trust the water you can drink around here. Forsaken aren’t quite as worried about the cleanliness as we are” Baile said, shrugging at her inquisitive expression as he sat down. “I’ve managed to secure us a room, however.”

Apsara nodded absent-mindedly as he poured her a glass. Then she jerked her eyes up to meet Baile’s. “ _A_ room? Singular?” She asked, realizing she might have to share a room with him. Of course – if she were to keep on traveling with this elf, she would spend a lot of time with him in close quarters and wilderness camps. Apsara felt silly for having asked that question out loud.

Baile smiled at her. “It is busy here, after all.” He sipped his drink. “You can sleep in the bed. I’ll be sleeping on the floor. “ As an afterthought, he added; “Worry not, priestess. I would not _dream_ of trying to sneak into Sathira’s daughter’s bed.” Baile turned to regard the crowd spending time in the open bar area.

A part of Apsara wanted to bristle at his impolite comment, but she let it be. Starting a conversation right now would be difficult anyway. A handful of Forsaken were arguing with a single orc at the bar, making quite a bit of ruckus. As evening became night, Apsara found herself becoming drowsy – the wine was somewhat stronger than she was used to, she realized. She snacked on some of the rations she pulled out from her bag, but every passing minute her eyelids became heavier and heavier. The fire from the hearth had warmed the room to a pleasant temperature, and she found her vision blurring. Apsara leaned on the table with her arms, meaning to just rest for a little… as she fell asleep.

Baile looked at Apsara and smirked slightly. The priestess had done admirably, going about her duties with every bit of precision and grace that she could muster. He’d been observing her struggling against the effect of the smells and sights in Undercity and performing all her tasks with the right kind of flair. There was potential in this woman, after all.

He nodded at the innkeep and stood up. Realizing just how deep asleep Apsara was, he hoisted her effortlessly into his arms. He carried her upstairs to their room and gently laid her on the bed. Still bent at the waist, he observed her face more closely.

Her almond-shaped eyes and pointed nose were part of a lovely heart-shaped face and framed by strands of blue-black hair. He found himself brushing aside a lock of hair from her face and looking at the curving line of her lips.

Sighing to himself, he straightened. She was beautiful, just like her mother before her. She’d inherited that fire in her soul from the blood elf matriarch, and curiosity from her inventor father. Baile shook his head and set up a sleeping spot across the room on the floor for himself. Tucking a traveling cloak from his bag into a roll to use it as a pillow, he removed his armor and carefully laid it down next to him. Then he laid down on his back and stared at the ceiling. The quiet, rhythmic breathing of Apsara filled the silence as Baile was pondering on the next few days.

He’d been surprised to be assigned to this young priestess, and a part of him wondered what Sathira was scheming. Knowing that there was no way he could abandon his ward, he would have to make the best of this trip and come up with a plan of his own. The stakes on his success were too high for him to even consider the possibility of failure.


	4. Chapter 4

Light rain pattered against the dusty window in their inn room. Baile heard Apsara awaken with a muffled groan that spoke of a hangover. He’d been sitting down at a rickety desk set against the wall and writing in a worn leather bound journal, which he now quickly shut and slid into his bag.

“Good morning.” Baile quipped from his sitting place across the room from the priestess as he half-turned in his chair. The priestess struggled to sit up in the bed, looking pale and frayed, still worn from the visit to Undercity the previous day.

“I hope you slept off some of that exhaustion of yours. It’s almost noon.” Baile stood up and started donning on his armor, quickly and efficiently fastening the straps. His fingers ran through the routine as he eyed the priestess rubbing her eyes in an attempt to wake up.

Apsara jerked her head in his direction, now completely awake. “Noon?!” She yelped, trying to scramble out of bed. Then she seemed to realize that on the bedside table Baile had set up a platter with fruit, bread and cheese – and a big pitcher of water. Surprised, she looked at him again.

He’d been awake and busy since daybreak, checking his gear for the trip through Silverpine Forest. It was simply against his nature to sit still when he had things to do – and he suspected the priestess was much the same, if she hadn’t been worn out as she was. “Take your time. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”  Baile picked up his sword, swung it over his shoulder into its scabbard and headed out of the room.

Settling down to comfortably lean against the wall near the doorway, Baile had the time to consider their day’s schedule as he waited. They would need to head down south and follow the road, plunging deep within the forest before they would re-emerge to daylight near Hillsbrad Foothills after a day or two. They would avoid Ambermill – he had no intention going anywhere near that veritable nest of spellcasters. Going the long way around would bring them closer to Greymane Wall, but since the humans there mostly kept to themselves, they should have no problem passing by the few cottages scattered around the hills leading up to the fortress called Shadowfang Keep.

On the road he would have the time to assess the priestess’s combat skills. After he’d figured out where her talents lay, he could better plan how to further improve them. Thankfully, Sathira had spared no expense in buying fitting gear for her, and so she seemed more than prepared to take on a few forest critters with him keeping a watchful eye. He smiled wryly. His new job as a bodyguard was nothing glamorous, but at least he would have the chance to exercise and build his strength.

He caught movement in the corner of his eye and turned to look at Apsara descending the stairs. The priestess had switched out her grey robe and was wearing dark green robes with golden details around the hem and the waist. A hooded brown cloak hung off her shoulders. Seems she’d also splashed some cold water on her face, as some of her usual color had returned. Apsara’s eyes had regained their usual sparkle, he noted as she stepped up to him. Standing next to the tall paladin she seemed small and fragile, but she seemed to practically glow with eagerness and confidence.

“I feel remarkably better. Thank you, Baile.” She smiled up at him.

He almost bristled at her for dropping the honorific, but realized that it wasn’t really necessary. He’d grown used to being addressed by reverence by everyone before, but right now, his excitable priestess companion was at an equal – or even higher! - level to him, considering her mother had set him up with this mission. Instead, he nodded at Apsara, trying not to let his momentary annoyance show and together they exited the worn-down inn.

The rain had turned into a light drizzle as the two settled to a comfortable walking pace side by side, heading out of Brill. Apsara kept her hood down to better look at her surroundings - the gloomy oaks and maples of Tirisfal Glades made way for majestic pines of Silverpine Forest as they followed the road south. From the corner of his eye Baile observed as Apsara walked. Her posture was straight and proud and she walked in a balanced manner, her steps unhindered by the swaying of her travel robes. She was not observing their surroundings, though, and Baile resisted the urge to sigh as he realized that he’d have to probably teach her everything about survival in the wilderness. From starting a fire to finding her way back when lost, reading the stars and gathering food from the wilds, all of this was most likely new to her.

And he would start working for his upkeep right now.

“Tell me, Apsara, what do you know of survival skills?” He asked her then without looking at her, breaking the companionable silence. “Do you know how to hunt your own food? Find clean water, or purify dirty water if necessary?”

Apsara glanced at him. “Not a whole lot, I have to admit. I had a tutor back when I was little who was absolutely in love with stars, and so I know most of the constellations, and I could probably get creative with my magic to help create warmth, but that’s where my expertise on wilderness ends.”

He nodded, having expected as much.  “When we set camp tonight, I will start teaching you the basics. Before that, we’ll see if we can help the Forsaken outpost with some of their more mundane pest control tasks. Is that fine with you, priestess?”

She grinned at him. “Yes!”

Shadows were growing longer in the forest, meager light barely reaching the ground between the tall, proud pines. Earthy smells were all around them, as were the sounds of small wildlife scurrying about. To a casual traveler those sounds were no more than the occasional rustle of leaves and a crackle of a twig accompanying the chirping of birds hiding up high, but to Baile the surroundings were a veritable cacophony of signals about possible danger.

The two arrived at a crossing in the road that would lead them to the Sepulcher and climbed up the hill. Atop the hill they saw a graveyard sprawled to their right and towards a great crypt, and on their left a large structure meant for keeping riding bats when they weren’t off carrying riders. A singular bat roosted there, shooting the intruders an angry look between its folded wings. Realizing the newcomers weren’t a threat, it refolded its wings around it and went back to napping. A bat handler – a Forsaken woman, seemingly oblivious of the light rain and dressed in tattered pants and a vest that had seen better days - was sitting on the ground, leaning against the structure for the bats and she stared at Apsara and Baile as they passed by.

Baile glanced at his ward and realized she must have been uncomfortable. The faint smell of death and rot was ever present where Forsaken were, and this outpost was no exception. Leading Apsara towards the crypt, he became aware that her steps slowed the closer to the crypt they were, until at last she simply stopped in front of the stairs leading to the underground crypt.

“You can’t let it control you.”

The priestess bristled. She stepped closer, standing on the highest step. “What?”

“The fear.”

Without sparing her another glance, Baile started descending the stairs.  He could practically hear her shuffle her feet on the cold stone slabs as she debated herself whether to follow him down or run away as fast as she could.

As Baile rounded the corner that led to another set of stairs, he could hear her following him, her heels striking the crumbling stones. He smiled to himself grimly and nodded. In order for her to survive any of this, she would have to learn how to conquer most of her fears in a short order.

* * *

 

As Apsara and Baile re-emerged from the crypt, having talked to an apothecary who’d been busy with making potions, Apsara seemed beyond grateful to be aboveground again. The two had been tasked with retrieving spider venom from a nearby mine that, if Baile were to quote the apothecary, was ‘full of oversized, particularly nasty spiders’ with ‘venom that could melt your hand away’. With the emaciated Forsaken’s detailed instructions, the old mine was easy to find. The entrance had been cut into the mountainside, with old, rusted mine tracks and the floor sloping downwards into the darkness within. 

Baile stood at the entrance, unsheathing his greatsword and eyeing it disapprovingly. “Sometimes I wish I had something less.. unwieldy. Might be that at times I will not be able to swing effectively, but I’ll try to make the best of it.” With this, he tapped his golden earring and a floating globe of light appeared over his left shoulder. He looked at the priestess, who nodded, clearly impressed with his enchanted earring.

“We will kill quietly and efficiently - none of that firework show-off stuff they teach you to do to impress your enemy, we don’t want the entire mine on us - take what we need, and get the heck out.” He instructed Apsara, who nodded at him. “Good. Make sure I’m between you and the spiders, but try not to burn or zap or shock me while you are at it.”

The duo headed into the mine, Baile’s magical light source casting a warm, golden glow across the roughly cut tunnel walls and ceiling as they walked cautiously onward. The tunnel itself was wide enough for the two blood elves to walk side by side, but it was entirely possible parts of the mine had collapsed and he’d be forced to get creative with his weapon of choice. Sidestepping the rusted mine tracks, the two followed the main tunnel until no trace remained of the dim daylight outside, and their only light was the magical, hovering orb that stayed in place over Baile’s shoulder as he peered this way and that. The quiet of the mine was only disturbed by the echoing sound of their footsteps on stone.

As they walked on, they started seeing signs of there being a spider infestation: the occasional spider web had multiplied in size, and these thick white strands no longer only covered the corners but spanned across the top of the tunnel as well. Small animals had been trapped in their clutches – white cocoons that could have held anything from birds to rabbits and larger animals were tucked safely away for later consumption. Another twenty steps and a rounded corner, and the elves looked into a tunnel that was veritably covered top to bottom with spider webs.  Spiders smaller than Baile’s palm skittered away the moment they saw the light, disappearing into cracks in the stone that surrounded them.

He was pretty sure those were not the spiders the apothecary had warned them about.

“We’ve found the nest, it seems. Let’s go.” Baile headed to the spider web covered tunnel with his sword in a firm grip of his two hands, tip pointed slightly down as he advanced.

Apsara fell a step behind her bodyguard and he could hear her inhaling deep, mentally preparing for a spell. The two started hearing the noises of many small feet scraping on stone, the echoes making it very difficult to pinpoint the location of the sound. The spider web under their feet was sticky, leaving residue on the bottom of their shoes and hanging off Apsara’s robe and cloak as they continued down the tunnel.

The tunnel expanded to a large, round chamber ahead, about 10 meters in diameter. Part of the ceiling had collapsed, rubble covering the floor of the middle of the dark room. The collapse had created a deep hole – deep enough for the light of Baile’s orb to not reach the end of - in the ceiling. He raised his arm to signal for the priestess to halt before entering the chamber. The scraping had turned into low, expectant chittering, and Baile glanced around. It was like they were being watched.

Baile saw movement from the corner of his eye. A shadow that could have only been a spider, about the size of a large dog, slowly creeped forward, swaying at the magical light’s edge. He saw Apsara raise her hand while the brown, furry spider lifted its’ two front legs and rubbed them together. It wasn’t often that the spiders’ prey wandered all the way into their nest – this was their lucky day.

It was not wise for the two to rush into the chamber without knowing what was lurking in the ceiling, Baile thought to himself as the spider tentatively took another step. He was about to lift his arm to signal the priestess to back off, and that’s when he realized more spiders were creeping from the shadows of the chamber. By ones and twos they were emerging to the light, the multitudes of eyes glimmering and fangs snapping. Most of them were the size of the first spider, but Baile saw several larger ones as well, and he had no doubt that the matriarch of horror that spewed out these monsters was at least the size of a cow.

“Baile!” Apsara whispered from behind him, her voice full of alarm.

Slowly turning his head, the paladin saw the spiders were also appearing from the tunnel the two had come from.

Gritting his teeth, Baile realized they were being surrounded.

“I will not let them harm you, priestess,” he promised her quietly as he raised his sword. Momentarily he closed his eyes, struggling to find his magic. A tiny speck of golden radiance was shimmering just out of reach in his mind. He cursed. _Too soon! I need more time._ He opened his eyes, a feral grin spreading across his lips. _I will have to do this the old-fashioned way, then_.

The first spider had halted its advance, and now curled all of its legs under it.

Baile exploded into action, swiping the greatsword in an overhand strike at the closest spider. His strike struck true and severed its head from its body in a shower of spider guts. Turning on his heels he dashed past the priestess, who had begun to cast a spell, and heaved his greatsword across in a mighty horizontal arc, hitting three spiders at once.

A roaring jet of golden flame came into being on the other side of the room, turning one spider into a charred husk and severely burning several others around it. Apsara took no time to admire her handiwork, grimly setting her sights on another spider and starting a new spell.

“Nice work!” Baile told her as he rushed past, pirouetting out of the way of a spider jumping at him and using his momentum to lead his greatsword in a wide diagonal arc, killing yet another spider.

For every spider that the duo killed, two seemed to take its place and the pair was slowly being driven away from the mouth of the tunnel and towards the center of the chamber. Magic flashed as Apsara cast one spell after another, alternating flames and golden streaks materializing out of thin air that almost knocked spiders over with their might. Baile cut another spider, this one reaching up to his chest, in two and almost slipped in the increasing amounts of spider guts that had been spilled. He barely dodged another spider’s bite as he scrambled to retain his balance on the slippery floor.

Some meters away, Apsara whirled, throwing herself out of the way of a spider jumping at her and landing shoulder first on the floor in a pile of brown, stained cloak and robes. Baile could hear her shoulder cracking at a distance as he rushed towards her and he cursed to himself again.

This was _bad_.

He heaved his greatsword down in a mighty vertical slice that left one spider legless and twitching on the floor. Baile dug his heels down, seeking a foothold on the floor and launched himself in a great leap towards the prone Apsara.

The priestess struggled to climb to her feet as Baile reached her and pulled her up, being careful to only tug the healthy arm. With a whimper, Apsara almost collapsed again. Her feet would not carry her because of the pain.

 “Stay there, and cast if you can!” He bellowed at her, using his worry and anger to drive his sword strikes. Stabbing and slicing his way through the horde of spiders, Baile was a sight to behold. He danced out of the way of one spider’s bite to almost get caught in the pearlescent spider web shot by another one. He ducked right under it in the last possible second, dancing to defend Apsara from the other side.

_Damn it, was there no end to these spiders?_

Apsara’s spell – weaker, but still strong enough to burn the spiders creeping closer – brightly lit the room once more. The priestess was pale and panting, but determinedly casting whatever she could.

Something dropped down in the middle of the room with a heavy thud that shook the chamber and the rest of the spiders that had tried to attack the duo fled. Baile turned around to see the largest spider he had seen – or would ever hope to see again! – looming over him.  The creature was as tall as the elf was, with fangs the size of his forearm snapping as it lumbered towards him.

Baile glanced around, assessing the situation. He stood his ground between the huge spider and the priestess, but with the reach that the monster had, she might not be safe for very long.  Apsara had frozen to where she sat, staring past Baile with a horrified expression. She had gone into shock, and would be easy prey to any spiders still nearby.

The spider struck at Baile with one leg in a sweeping motion, hoping to knock the paladin right off his feet. He tucked his legs under himself as he jumped, narrowly avoiding being smacked by the hairy, long leg. Baile landed and nimbly ducked under a swipe from another leg, this one aimed at his head. Knowing he had no time, he turned to the offensive.

When the next probing attack came, instead of dodging Baile opted to slash at the leg instead. Sharp steel cut into a spider leg and it flew free, tumbling down on the floor behind the paladin.

Now furious, the spider jumped forward, using its remaining front leg to try and grab the pesky elf in order to inject him with venom. Baile was quicker, launching into a sideways roll and luring the behemoth away from Apsara.

“Come, then!” he roared at the spider.

The behemoth obliged.

Falling into a routine, the paladin hacked, slashed and danced his way past the spider’s defenses, cutting off two more legs and striking oozing wounds across the spider’s abdomen. He was quickly starting to tire, and he cursed. He was in no condition for this!

The spider charged at him in a frenzy, almost knocking him over as he quickly sidestepped, but not far enough. Baile was standing so close to the spider’s body that he could see the individual hairs on its back, and he realized his error.

With a resounding thud, the spider bumped into him sideways and launched him backwards against the chamber wall. Pain shot through his back and the back of his head as he slumped down into a sitting position. Sparks flew in his vision as he struggled to stand. Luckily his reflexes had held and he still had his sword, he noted in a haze as he finally regained his feet.

The spider had turned around and was now advancing on the priestess.

His guts turned to ice. _Apsara!_

In an adrenaline-filled rush Baile ran after the spider, somehow managing not to lose his footing on the slippery floor. Entirely focused on another prey, the behemoth had seemingly thought him to be out of the battle, and thus turned its’ backside to the paladin. A perfect chance to strike the creature down for once and for all!

Time seemed to slow for the paladin. Preparing his sword for an overhand slash, Baile was closing in on the spider. Another stride and he would sink several feet of sharp steel into the creature. Angling his sword for maximum lethality, he struck at the behemoth.

An extremely bright and hot flame split the spider apart.

Turning sideways and shielding his eyes from the veritable pillar of fire, Baile came to a screeching halt right next to the creature as its’ exoskeleton crumbled and melted away, revealing the soft mess underneath. As fast as the fire had appeared, it disappeared, leaving a smoking, charred pile of spider remains sprawled on the floor.

“That should be enough spider venom.. right?” The priestess chuckled.

Baile looked at Apsara over the carnage she had caused. The priestess was standing again, apparently having healed herself and utterly decimated the behemoth. The paladin shook his head and laughed.

“That it certainly will,” he concluded.

Apsara walked to him, limping slightly. Her eyebrows knitted in a worried expression. “Are you all right? I think you hit your head…”

Baile patted the back of his head. His hand came back covered in blood.

Without being prompted, the priestess stepped to his side and reached up, laying a gentle hand on his neck. The telltale glow of a healing spell filled the immediate area as Apsara closed the wound. The pain disappeared and pleasant warmth spread down his neck and over his back.

She smiled at him. “There we go. All done.”

He looked her over. “Thank you. It seems like you managed to heal your own injuries as well.”

Apsara blushed and looked down, seeming embarrassed. “I… I am sorry for freezing earlier.“

Baile shook his head, reaching over to gently lay his hand over her shoulder. “Don’t be, Apsara. You’ve done well, and your magic saved the day. It is I who should be apologizing for not protecting you better,” Baile retorted, looking at her incredulously.

The priestess shook her head, looking up at him again. “No, it is not necessary. I knew what I signed up for. “ Her mouth was set in a tight, determined line, and Baile couldn’t help but admire her unrelenting spirit. Her jet black hair partially untied and her robes a mess of spider guts, the priestess stood proud and tall despite standing in the middle of gruesome carnage.

He nodded at her, moving to wipe down his sword and grabbing the venom collection vial. Choosing one of the smaller spiders they had killed earlier, Baile extracted some venom with extreme care. The small glass vial filled to his satisfaction, he corked it and turned back to Apsara.

“Let’s get back to the outpost, deliver this and get started with that camp. I think the spiders are gone, so we should be safe.” Baile motioned Apsara to follow, and the two left the spider corpse-filled chamber behind.


	5. Chapter 5

 

It had begun to rain in earnest when the tired duo were done with bringing back the spider venom – to the glee of the Forsaken keeping their little laboratory in the crypt - and setting up their camp under the meager protection of several tall trees, nestled against the hills near The Sepulcher. The only thing that was truly dry was the tent that Baile pulled out of his magical bag (how much could he actually fit in that bag, the priestess could only speculate) and the two would be cooped up for the night, considering they could not even light a fire to cook food with the rain being as heavy as it was. Night had fallen around them as they stumbled around in the dark and finally managed to hang the strings holding up the top of the tent between two pines.

Her adrenaline boost from slaying the spider faded now, Apsara struggled to stay awake while they finished putting up the tent and crawled in without saying a word once they were done, falling asleep nestled in her bedroll under a fresh cloak she’d pulled from her bag. The dirtied one had been rinsed with rain water and hung to dry on a nearby branch under the thickest pine she could find, but neither of them expected it to actually dry with rainwater seeping in between the thick needle-covered treetops.  

Baile walked the perimeter in the darkness, setting enchanted ward stones around their camp. Anything passing between the magical lines would cause an alarm that would alert him immediately, making sure he could repel any attacker or curious wildlife that would wander too close.  Finally satisfied with the setup, he sat down by the doorway of the tent, just safe from the rain, and set to wiping down his sword and cleaning it to keep it from rusting.

A soldier’s instinct, he mused to himself as his hands worked almost out of their own accord, wiping down every last inch of the weapon and covering the blade in a film of protective oil he fished from his bag that would cleanse the last of the remaining residue from the spiders. The condition of his gear was paramount, especially with his magic being as tricky as it was right now. On that note he’d been glad Apsara hadn’t raised the subject, since he wasn’t sure how he’d reply to her questions. His eyebrows furrowed in a frown.

If he would talk about the subject at all.

Unstrapping his armor he meticulously cleaned and dried every piece from the dirt and spider guts, and finally pulled off his shirt to rinse the dried blood off his neck with several handfuls of water from a water flask. He glanced towards the tent opening to see Apsara curled up as small as she could, seeking a comfortable position in the small, drafty tent. Baile could see the residual traces of her holy magic all over her body as it practically made her glow in the dark to his sensitive eyes. The magic also had a faint smell to it, that he could smell even with the fragrant forest all around them. He inhaled the sweet aroma of jasmines and exhaled the air slowly.

Apsara's magic had been beyond his expectations - so far above even that he had been amazed by her proficiency. What she lacked in experience, she more than made up in firepower and willingness to learn. It all made sense to the tired paladin then. The small, fierce woman was the result of precisely selected genes, after all.

Maybe she had been chosen for this task on purpose.

Before crawling into the dark tent Baile wiped himself down with a cloth the best he could and laid down on the bedroll, trying to get comfortable laying on his side mere feet away from the sleeping priestess. He watched her barely visible silhouette in the darkness of their tent. The rain was letting up, now beating an irregular rhythm on the fabric above head.

Apsara shifted in her sleep, stretching out despite the cold. The meager light caught in her black hair glimmered like stars.

Baile reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering just a few fingerbreadths from her shoulder -

\- _and the beautiful sin'dorei woman lounging next to him, dressed in a revealing gold and red dress, her extremely long silky hair cascading in rivers of black silk down her back and spilling onto the mattress they shared, half turned towards him. The slit on the side of her dress revealed much of her shapely legs, and she enjoyed the attention his examining gaze was giving her. Her sensual lips covered with deep luscious red lip paint smiled at him mischievously. Baile barely registered their luxurious surroundings, streams of golden sunlight striking the bright marble floors and scattering across the white walls._

_His hand pressed against the silky hair and he ran his fingers through it, marveling the smoothness against his calloused palms. Her eyes, exotically beautiful as they were, had been lined with dark kohl, and they were observing him with mirth._

_"To the victor go the spoils," the woman whispered and fully rolled over to face him. He could feel her warmth through the thin fabric of her dress as she eyed her from beneath her long eyelashes. She pressed be her curvaceous body against him as she tilted her head up to kiss him_ -

\- and the scene around him darkened as his fingertips brushed a lock of Apsara's hair. He jerked his hand away as he had touched a hot brand. The diminutive priestess shifted and murmured in her sleep.

That had happened so long time ago now, he told himself. He exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and mentally berated himself for mistaking the sweet priestess for _her_. Rolling over, he firmly ignored Apsara's sleeping form and tried to fall asleep. His heart thumped painfully in his chest.

His earring briefly turned warm against his cheek, warning him of an incoming bubble of magic. A magical communications, linked to his earring, buzzed in his ear briefly before becoming a voice. 

_It seems you are doing well. At least you're both alive_ , the sensual voice in his thoughts remarked.

He let his amusement at this be felt and answered the remark in his thoughts. _We're alive and well, thank you for your concern_. Baile pulled his cloak over himself, his clammy skin slowly warming up.

  _On-schedule too, by the looks of it. Very well. Carry on._

 Baile's earring cooled down and he ground his teeth. Her intrusions in his mind were the least pleasant part of an already annoying set of restrictions, and his magic was pooling slower than promised. For the hundredth time in the past week, he silently cursed his fate.

 When sleep at long last came, it was riddled with nightmares and past events half forgotten. 

* * *

 

The next morning Apsara woke up to find the paladin gone from the tent. It was the sun had risen a short while ago as she crawled past the tent flap out to the cool air to see Silverpine forest bathed in the early morning light, the previous day's gloom and rain gone. Baile had been writing in a journal. He sat on a wide, flat rock with his back to her, the sun’s rays lighting up his silver hair in a radiant glow. The paladin had dressed in his usual leather boots, black trousers and had pulled on a new black shirt.

"Good morning." Without turning around he finished penning a few more words and closed the leather-bound journal. The quill and ink pot disappeared into a satchel along with the book that Apsara eyed curiously. Part of her wondered just what the man wrote in this journal.

"Good morning," she replied as she stretched to her full length with her arms above her head. Apsara’s muscles were sore, her shoulder ached, her hands tingled from the amount of magic she had released the previous day and she could still smell the trek through the spider nest on her shoes.  Her robe had seen better days and her previously beautifully groomed mane of black hair hung in tangles beyond her hair clip, but she felt energized. The excitement of having survived the encounter with the giant spider slowly crept up and down the priestess’s back as she surveyed the brightly lit woods. She was feeling _at ease_ in a way she hadn’t in a long, long while. It didn’t take much of stretch for her to understand why many adventurers lived on the road for years, seeking thrill in the wild and dangerous parts of Azeroth.

Sitting down on the rock next to the paladin. Baile wordlessly handed her their satchel containing their rations and water, and she began assembling a reasonable breakfast for herself as they both watched the forest and listened to the sounds of bird calls around them.

“How are you doing?” Baile asked her, breaking the silence.

“I am fine. My shoulder is a little stiff, but that’s to be expected.” Apsara rolled her shoulder experimentally and wincing at the sharp jab of pain. The healing spell had brought the bones back together, but it had left a nasty bruise – it was best she be careful with what she did for a few days.

“We should be safe if we follow the road to Tarren Mill as planned,” Baile noted as he turned to look at her. It seemed he had noticed her slightly pained expression and made a note of it. “And we’ll not be doing anything resembling combat until tomorrow.”

Apsara nodded obediently, chewing on a piece of dried fruit. She swallowed and looked at the paladin. Baile smiled at her and suddenly Apsara’s throat was dry. Something about his smile made her feel.. giddy? She mentally admonished herself and forced her gaze away.

“It’s time we get moving, then.”

"It is. I have no desire to stay here any longer than necessary." Baile lifted his foot, pulling his boot from the muck with a sucking sound.

Rain had turned the forest slightly mushy, Apsara noted as they packed up the campsite and ended up discarding her cloak and Baile\s shirt after judging them beyond fixing. The two started making their way to the main road.  They dodged weeds and brambles that the priestess couldn’t remember having been there before. _Could rain cause plants to grow this fast in places like Silverpine_? The priestess simply enjoyed the greenness and otherness of this forest, despite the less-than-friendly wildlife. Most of the flowers were dull and earthy colors, nothing really standing out in the moss green flora that covered the forest floor.   
  
“In order for us to not have an experience like yesterday again, we’ll be learning to fight together, Apsara,” Baile began as they finally reached the road and started their trek to the south. “Though granted, I did not think spiders could band together like that to surround us and herd us.” His voice betrayed his annoyance this time.

“And what I mean by saying learning to fight together, is that you will trust me to have your back and you will have mine.”

Apsara felt a squeezing sense of alarm in her chest. Should he really be trusting her with his life? She felt inexperienced and clumsy when she watched him fight. Wouldn’t it be safer for him to _not_ trust her with something like that? Her, the combat-inexperiences novice priestess?

“I have a very particular way of fighting, you see. I’ve been trained to use the battleground to my advantage, and I carry my share of magical trinkets to make life easy. I suppose you also have yours.” He glanced at the bag she held her wand in. The wand had been enchanted with magical energy that would release in small bursts until the charges had been depleted.

The priestess chewed her lip as she tried to push her fears aside and listened to the impromptu first combat lesson he was giving her while they walked.  He gestured with his arms as he ran through the scenario from the day before, detailing their mistakes and highlighting their successes, quizzing Apsara on correct ways of handling different scenarios. After Seeming begrudgingly satisfied in her understanding of tactics, Baile pointed out different plants from along the road, listing their uses.

“I’m no herbalist, but I need to know what to fetch when someone needs ingredients for a potion,” he explained, pointing out the spiky, thick plant jutting from the ground. “And I need to know _how_ to do it without ruining the plant… or my hands.” Baile kneeled next to the plant, deftly twisting one of the bigger spiked strands of the plant out of the way and pulling the plant out of the ground, revealing vivid yellow roots underneath.

“Combat is not straightforward, Apsara. Our roles during a battle, regardless which side we are on, shift and change. In an emergency I’ll need to be able to do many things, just not the tasks assigned to me.”

The priestess eyed the root curiously. At a first glance the plant had seemed too dangerous to even approach or touch, with the long thorns poking out on all sides. Yet Baile had pulled the root out of the ground efficiently and without harming himself in the process. There were many advantages to knowing a bit about everything, she mused as she crouched by her bodyguard.

“So besides combat with a weapon, you’re a field medic then, as well?” Apsara asked Baile.

“I know how to bind wounds,” he shrugged. “But nothing like a proper healer would be. My magic has never been suited for that.”

Apsara and Baile straightened out, the paladin tucking the plant into one of his magical pouches for the future.

“You have protective magic, then,” Apsara deduced as a triumphant smile snuck on her face. She felt like she was figuring him out, small piece by small piece. It was actually kind of like a challenge for the social, warm priestess who wasn’t used to trying to wriggle her way through so many defenses.

Baile turned away from her, his narrow eyes steely and his voice discouraging further discussion about the matter. “I do not use magic that much. I prefer to rely on muscle, lady Apsara.” Baile continued his walk on the road to the south without looking behind.

The priestess frowned at the fierce answer, and filed the detail in the back of her memory for the future. He was absolutely frosty when it came to his magic. Why?

“Come on, priestess. We have ways to go before the sun sets tonight,” Baile called from ahead.

She hurried to follow him.

* * *

 

The two broke out of the cover of the silver-bark pine trees as sun was about to set. Apsara was deeply relieved to see a sunset over rolling green fields, a few hills and very manageable patches of forest. The two had managed to pass by Shadowfang Keep without being attacked by werewolves, though she could have sworn she had seen glowing eyes in the underbrush. Glad to see the sky again, she smiled at the sight.

“Guess that is good enough to set camp for tonight.” Baile eyed a cliff with a sheltering outcrop some ways from the road. He headed off, wading up to his knees through the tall grass.

Apsara trudged after him, ignoring her sore muscles as she picked up the hems of her robes. Making their way under the outcrop, both put down their bags and got started with starting a fire and setting up their bedrolls since a tent wasn’t needed. Working mechanically and setting up their camp as Baile wandered off to find wood for the campfire, Apsara reflected on her conversation with her bodyguard.

She couldn’t help but feel there were bigger things at play. Baile wasn’t telling her everything, and judging how he’d not used any of his magic during the time she’d known him, the issue was so deep-rooted that he wasn’t willing to share it. It frustrated her, but also made her all the more curious. She would need to find a way to get to know him, or the next few months would be long indeed. They could not possibly talk about her – or the weather – for the rest of their journey together.

It was slowly becoming dark and Apsara gazed over the lush hills, green fading to dark purples and blues. Cracking open the closed and protective paladin would be a true task, but she would do her best. A sigh escaped her lips then. Finishing the ring of rocks for their campfire, she heard Baile’s footfalls some ways away from the camp. Soon the tall blood elf ducked under the rocky outcropping with firewood in his arms.

“So what are you sighing about priestess?” Baile tilted his head inquiringly at her. How was his hearing so keen? Or had she sighed so loud?

 “Oh! I didn’t realize…” Apsara started as blush crept to her cheeks.

“Frustrations? Let us hear them.”

Baile dropped the twigs in a pile in the middle of the ring of rocks Apsara had created and sat down next to them, working on getting a fire going.

Not knowing quite how to explain herself, Apsara scoffed.

“That’s a start!” Baile quipped as he struck a spark with his flint and tinder. Bright sparks bounced off his gloved hands and fell on the ground, slowly fading away.

The priestess resisted an urge to throw a rock at him, even when he got a fire going and their dark camp spot slowly illuminated.  “You know, I didn’t think I’d actually end up going out here with you.” She finally admitted as she sat down on the opposite side of the campfire from Baile. His gaze glowed in the meager light.

“Glad my charming ways could change your mind.” Baile leaned back as the spark grew to a flame, catching on the dry twigs. The area flooded with dim light from the beginnings of the small campfire.

“That’s not the point. I was angry at my mother. It was nothing personal, you see.” Apsara continued, pretending to pluck a piece of grass from the hem of her robe.

“You are embarrassed. Why?” Baile raised his eyes from the growing campfire, locking gazes with her again.

Apsara was startled at the blunt question. She found herself pondering on the most appropriate answer. She felt her throat constrict at that inquisitive gaze that seemed to see to the depths of her soul in some unexplainable way.

“I acted like a child, lord Baile,” she began carefully. “Despite the fact that my mother had my best interests at heart, I straight out rejected you at first. By the Light, I was figuring out ways to sneak away from you just to prove I could.”

Baile grinned a little at this. “You wouldn’t have managed, but it would have been interesting to see you try.”

The priestess stuck her tongue out at her bodyguard playfully. “And by now I know it would have been a bad choice for me, so I’m glad I didn’t.”

“What makes you think that?” The paladin prodded at the fire with a stick, sending sparks flying as the fire was catching on to the rest of the twigs. The campfire would keep them warm enough for the rest of the night.

Chuckling faintly, Apsara nodded. “You are highly skilled with the sword and polite to a fault. I don’t think my mother could have done better with finding me an excellent bodyguard.” She finished quietly. The bright, friendly smile she aimed at Baile then could have lit the area better than the campfire did.

It was Baile’s turn to look embarrassed. He rubbed his neck with a gloved hand, turning his gaze from hers. “I have to admit I did not make the best of first expressions either. I’d… been fatigued for a while. And it’s not every day a friend asks me a favor like this.”

The tired priestess’s ears perked up. “You’re doing this as a favor for my mother?”

Baile looked at her again, nodding slightly.

“And I better get to the part where I get my pay from, namely from training your combat skills. That’s something we’ll do the first thing tomorrow morning.” His smile turned into a bit of a smirk as he regarded her over the campfire that was now happily crackling away between them.

The priestess resisted an urge to shrink away from that grin. She recognized yet another tactic to avoid her line of questioning and decided to finally press the attack. She needed to know more of this mysterious paladin if she were to trust him with her life.

“So you worked together with her on battlefields, then?” Apsara inquired innocently as she started preparing a meal for them. Baile’s smirk faded as he recognized that there was no squirming away from this question.

“I did. She was ever the tactical healer, determining the best angles of attack, poring over battle plans and pointing out weaknesses even the most experienced tacticians had seemed to miss. After all that, she made sure each and every injured soldier would be brought back from within an inch of their lives with effort that I truly associate with the Elenn family these days.” Baile got up on his feet and started helping her with dinner preparations, pulling out light tin bowls for their stew from their magical bags.

Apsara had heard some of the stories of course. Something seemed off in his story, though. Though with blood elves it was hard to tell and aging was slow, she could have sworn he looked no older than someone who was in their adulthood, around the age of 80 years, not someone in their middle age somewhere between 150 and 170 like his story would have placed him at – the same age as her mother. Apsara herself had just turned 50, which was a milestone in blood elf life span – that of stepping into adulthood.

_Maybe he has good genes?_ Apsara suppressed a chuckle. A lot of older folk meddled with spells that made them appear younger. Even with sin’dorei life spans reaching up to 400 years and even longer occasionally, eternal youth was a thing much coveted by anyone with a sense of vanity. Just looking at Baile’s silvery, long hair and well-groomed patch a of beard that covered his chin, he was the very definition of pale blood elf vanity. He did have some scars from battles, she noted as he pulled up his sleeves to finish pouring cut vegetables into a stew as a finishing touch, and those remained untouched and unreversed by magic.

“I would love to hear those stories sometime.” Apsara smiled at Baile as the two settled back to wait for their dinner to cook.

“You mean Sathira didn’t tell you? Ah, the chances to show off her expertise didn’t usually go unused…” Baile laughed heartily.

“To be honest, she avoided talking about it most of the times. I guess she was hoping me to become a priestess in name only, and to avoid combat as much as possible.” Apsara mused out loud, looking out into the darkness. The chirping of the birds had quieted down – the night was growing still now, except for the occasional hoot of an owl nearby. “From an early age I had a… _wanderlust_. More so than my brothers and sisters. I was proud of the fact I knew Eversong Woods like the inside of my back pocket.” She chuckled a little at Baile’s raised eyebrows.

“I bet she **loved** her daughter narrowly avoiding danger from the Wretched.” He said dryly. The outpour of the magic-starved sin’dorei in some areas of the Eversong Woods would be very dangerous indeed to a lone priestess with as little combat knowledge as she had.

Apsara shrugged defensively. “Well, I needed to get out of the manor. I wasn’t happy being cooped up inside, you know. I needed to see _the world_.” She motioned out with her arms, suddenly forgetting about her fears and anxieties for a moment as she remembered those days reading about the world beyond Quel’Thalas and dreaming of seeing it for herself.

 “Oh, the world is much, much larger than Eversong Woods.”  He promised her, his genuine smile returning to his strict features.

Determining that she had gotten as much information as she could for one day, she decided to let the subject rest. The two ate in companionable silence and laid down to sleep on the opposite sides of the campfire.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

Following the main road, the two departed in the direction of Tarren Mill the next morning. Feeling energized after having slept well, the pair fell into step as they walked at a leisurely pace towards the east along the cobblestone road. The sea of grass around them was broken with small hills dotting the landscape in all directions, and Apsara could see mountains looming in the far north. Trees in all shapes and sizes grew close to the hills, forming small beginnings of forests. A warm gust of wind brought a flowery scent along to her nostrils, and the priestess inhaled deeply. The unfamiliar smell prickled her senses.

As they passed a cluster of colorful wild flowers, a childlike urge struck Apsara and she stopped in her tracks to crouch down and examine to bright yellow petals.  Her lips quirked up in a smile, as if with a will of their own. After emerging from the wet and gloomy Silverpine forests, bright colours made her appreciate them more. Though these flowers paled in comparison, they reminded her of the flowers her mother usually put in a big glass vase in the family mansion entrance hall.

Baile crouched next to her. She could feel his gaze on her face as she observed the flowers swaying in the breeze and reached out to touch a fine, thin leaf.

“Those are nothing but weeds. Exceptionally pretty, but weeds nonetheless.”

Without looking at him, Apsara plucked a flower – the one with the brightest yellows and oranges. Twirling it between her fingers, she stood up again and followed Baile as he turned to follow the road.

“So, who’s our contact here?” Baile asked.

A bird flew overheard, chattering excitedly and Apsara followed it with her eyes until it disappeared from view. “We are to meet up with Melisara, a banshee who oversees the business in Tarren Mill.”

Baile glanced at her, one white eyebrow quirked. “A banshee? Interesting.”

As they walked in silence, the priestess reflected on the next step on her to-do list. Truth be told, Apsara had been extensively schooled in how she was to deal with their banshee contact. Undeath often twisted someone’s personality in very unpredictable ways, her mother had warned her. Many banshees gained powers they had never had when they were alive, and this in turn brought out the worst in these women – especially their cruelty.

The idea of having to stand face to face with such a creature had caused her plenty of unease before she had actually left the family manor, but had been too busy with other things since. The familiar feeling of fear surged in her stomach. In an attempt to ignore it, she concentrated on admiring the scenery and failed – the charm of the countryside was suddenly gone for her. Sighing quietly, she tucked the flower carefully in a belt pouch and let it settle against her hip as she walked.

Passing a small copse of trees, just beyond the visual range of the human settlement off to the north of the road, Baile came to a halt, eyeing the cover of the trees and suddenly broke off towards them. Without knowing what else to do, Apsara frowned but followed obediently. The two stopped in a grassy area mostly surrounded by the trees – almost like a small glade, shielding them from prying eyes. The tall trees blocked the sunlight, creating a shadowy, quiet area.

The paladin glanced about and seemed satisfied with his choice. He walked a few steps away from the priestess and turned to face her, his expression suddenly serious. His eyes were now narrowed as he eyed Apsara up and down.

“Put away your weapons,” Baile commanded as he began unbuckling his weapon harness.

Apsara frowned. Suddenly feeling cold, she could only mutely stare at the paladin.  At this point he was pulling off his chain mail, revealing the black shirt underneath.

Baile shot her a meaningful stare.

Hurrying to follow his example, Apsara pulled off her weapon belt and magical pouches as well as her defensive brooch, effectively disarming herself aside from her innate magic. She felt suddenly very naked without her trinkets, and folded her arms protectively across her chest. The priestess watched her bodyguard roll up the sleeves of his black shirt to his elbows and unsheathe his sword from the weapon harness he held in his hand.

Nodding approvingly, Baile let the weapon harness fall to the ground, and faced Apsara as he assumed a combat stance. The muscles in his arms rippled as he shifted his grip on the heavy weapon and pointed the tip at her. Apsara’s heart skipped a beat. Her bodyguard’s threatening posture was enough to set her on the edge. Frozen to where she stood, she was unable to flee as her eyes were drawn to  the razor sharp edge of the sword.

“I hope you’ve practiced your shields, Apsara.” He chuckled darkly, rolling his shoulders and craning his neck from side to side with audible cracks. “You are to keep one up as long as you can, and re-create it if it breaks.”

He was to attack her with several feet of sharpened steel and the only thing that she was allowed was a magical shield? Her heart suddenly started pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. When her mouth suddenly went dry, she realized she was afraid.

“Am I clear?” The paladin’s eyes never left hers. He stared at her with an intensity that reminded her of the time he’d pulled her along by her wrist in Silvermoon, and a shiver ran down Apsara’s back.

Inhaling a shaky breath, Apsara unfolded her arms and nodded. She brought her hands in front of her vertically, fingers pointing up, palm towards her bodyguard and called on her magic. A shimmering, golden aura in the shape of a large shield appeared in front of her.

Baile wasted no time in closing the distance between them and angling his sword at the shield with a horizontal strike from left to right. The weapon crashed into her magical shield and Apsara felt the shield vibrate and buckle. About a feet away from the priestess the air filled with golden sparks and a chiming sound warned her about just how much force Baile had put into that swing. She squinted with her eyes against the bright flash of the sparks. The first shield held, but barely. Apsara dug her heels into the grass, leaning forward.

Shuffling his feet, Baile took half a step backwards to bring his greatsword up, aiming a great vertical arc at the priestess. Yet again the sword crashed into the shield, this time depleting the magical energies just before it hit the ground. The shield disappeared in a gentle shower of golden sparks.

“Again!” The paladin commanded and Apsara obeyed. She called a new shield into being, staring into Baile’s stubborn eyes.  “Focus on the weapon, Apsara!”

The paladin increased his speed, stabbing at the shield hard enough for the shield to push Apsara back and almost knock her off her feet. The shield flickered and the priestess had to immediately conjure another one, lest she be skewered by the grim-faced bodyguard. The echo of her shield’s magic being depleted rang across the clearing.

“Again!” He yelled, this time sweeping at her from a low angle, forcing her to move her shield sideways to deflect his attack. The blade struck more golden sparks, with enough recoil to force Baile to follow the bounce back and to change his stance. With little effort he jumped forward to strike at her weakened shield that was about ready to disappear.

With a hiss of determination Apsara made sure this shield held for another strike before she conjured a new one. Drops of sweat were forming on her forehead now. Another powerful strike shook her shield, this time a backhand slash. The priestess’s heels dug deeper into the grass as she started panting. Every depleting shield drained her energy and left her wheezing.

“And again!” Barely out of breath, Baile came at her again, this time leaping to the side and swiping faster than the priestess thought possible with a sword of that size. Moving the shield in place just in time, Apsara lost her footing and was thrown unceremoniously onto her side on the grass as her shield shattered under the strike. Pain jolted up her barely-healed arm.

“Get up.”

Apsara spat grass, momentarily disoriented.

“Get up, I said,” Baile growled at her. His sword was still pointed at her.

Apsara scrambled to get to her feet and to cast a new shield just in time before another swing collided with the protective aura.

Baile came at her relentlessly. His sword was the only thing Apsara could focus on as she panted, sweat starting to drip down her face and neck. Another strike, and another shield broke with an audible chime of magic.

A sense of alarm rose in Apsara as she realized she could not keep this up. She would tire long before the paladin would! The fierce determination and the brutal attacks drove her back on her heels. With another pirouette, Baile destroyed another shield with ease and grace of a warrior in his element.

Pulling together every single drop of her magic she had left, the priestess conjured one last shield.

Leading with his shoulder, Baile stepped close to Apsara, unleashing a vicious diagonal swing with all of his strength that knocked Apsara clean off her feet. The power of the slash sent her backwards in an arc and in a flash she landed squarely on her back. The impact of the fall knocked the breath out of her lungs and for a moment she only saw stars in her field of vision.

Baile loomed over her as he kneeled next to her, holding the blade over her neck with an unreadable, grim expression.

The priestess panted, entirely out of breath, sweat matting strands of hair to her forehead. Her robes felt heavy on her as she laid still, the edge of the sword fingerbreadths from her throat and Baile’s intense glowing gaze locked into hers. For a moment, Apsara thought he was going to press down with the blade and end her then and there.

His expression calmed down, and the murderous rage in his eyes vanished.

“And this happens if you only rely on magic.”

After a moment, the paladin nodded at her, pulling the sword away and offering a hand to the priestess. Accepting the hand, Apsara was pulled up to her feet again. She stood, her knees wobbly and the back of her head aching from where it had collided with the ground. Baile eyed her cautiously.

“I’m fine. I just.. need a moment.” She mumbled, waving his supporting hand off.

This was the first time since she had become a priestess that her magic had been entirely depleted in such a short amount of time. It left her head buzzing and breathing shallow as it felt like someone had pulled all of her energy out of her, and all she wanted to do was to curl up and take a long nap. Catching her breath, slowly her strength returned and her knees didn’t feel like jelly anymore.

Baile lowered his sword to the ground and faced her, unarmed. Something about him still caused her unease in the back of her mind, but she could not figure out why.

“Now, widen your stance.” He instructed her, gently tapping her waist with his knuckles. “You will not be so easily knocked over if you have a firm stance.” He demonstrated the stance, one foot to the front, the knees bent, the foot in the back angled just ever so slightly to the side.

Baile demonstrated the firmness of this stance by asking her to raise her arm perpendicular to the ground in front of her, and then thrusting his own palm at her fist from the front with considerable force. Her stance held, to her great delight. Balanced on the balls of her feet with her center of gravity firmly rooted, she reflected back to how she’d not considered her stance during the training exercise.

Nodding with satisfaction, the paladin motioned for her to be at ease. “Time to have a bit of a snack. You’re pale.”

Finally catching her breath, the priestess did as she was bid, and followed Baile to their bags. The two sat down on the grass in the shade of the trees and nibbled on some fresh fruit the paladin conjured from his bags.

“For the rest of the day we should continue with your itinerary.” Baile noted as the two finished eating. “Hopefully, in a few days we’ll get started with some hand-to-hand training. As a priestess, you have major shortcomings when it comes to actual battle. I’d rather you not get killed because an assassin sneaked up and you didn’t know how to deal with that.”

“You’re really thinking of this in a whole different way than any of my trainers ever have, Baile.” Apsara couldn’t help but feel impressed, and more than little intimidated by his methods.

Her grim bodyguard clicked his tongue and looked away, trying to hide his annoyed expression. His closed expression made Apsara realize he was holding back a running commentary about the quality of her training. The thought amused her.

“The thing is, Apsara,” Baile began carefully. “Nothing will ever replace the feeling of having another being attacking you with everything they’ve got. This experience is vital if you want to live.”

In a flash she recalled his fierce gaze as he swung his greatsword at her. A cold shiver made the hairs at the nape of her neck stand up despite the warm day.

“Regardless, I’m here to patch up the holes in your combat education.”

Baile leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm and staring off into the distance. “But for someone who has never had a fellow sin’dorei come at you with cold steel, you did well.”

Apsara blushed at the compliment, sincerely proud at his remark. As Baile stood, so did she, with renewed determination and vigor.

The elves gathered their gear and headed towards Tarren Mill.

* * *

 

Being addressed by Melisara felt like being sunken in a cold river, Apsara realized as she stood in front of the banshee.

From a distance, the banshee looked like a beautiful elven woman. Observing closer, an onlooker would realize she was floating just above the ground; her hair and skin were eerily blue, her fingernails curved into long and sharp talons, and her eyes glowed with cold malice. Melisara wore a tattered, revealing dress that flapped in a wind that the living could not feel. Apsara felt almost feverish – the presence of this powerful undead was making her uncomfortable in her own skin. Knowing the banshee an ally didn’t make it any easier for the priestess to bow low when Melisara floated closer to her.

“Ah. You’re an Elenn…” Melisara said in her melodious voice, having noted her hair clip and the insignia on her robe. Her words echoed inside the priestess’s head as Apsara raised her eyes to meet the banshee’s.

“I am, my lady.” She forced a small smile to her lips. Showing her unease right now would be like walking to a lion’s den. Even though she knew Baile was mere steps away behind her at a respectable distance from the women, she realized this was her own battle to fight.

“Sathira said you’d pay a visit.” The banshee chuckled, the sound making Apsara’s head throb. “How is your mother? It has been so many years….” Melisara brushed a lock of hair behind her long ear with a long nail, eyeing both her and Baile standing several steps behind her with his arms crossed.

“She is well, my lady. She sends her regards, and a gift.”

Feeling increasingly cold now, Apsara fumbled with the simple, small box she pulled out of her bag. She managed to lift it up with both hands without dropping it. Smiling knowingly at her, Melisara cupped her hand under Apsara’s so that she might drop the box on her palm without touching the banshee. The priestess gently laid the box down without letting it tumble over and backed up a step. The cold creeping up her arm now had made her fingers numb. Apsara flexed her hands slowly, forcing her blood to keep flowing to her fingers.

Delighted at the little box, the banshee opened it to reveal a silver ring set with a large, shimmering sapphire. She cooed appreciatively.

“Your mother truly knows how to impress, young one.” Melisara gingerly picked up the ring that seemed too small for her talons, and just as she slid the ring on one of her nails, the ring seemed to get bigger. She could easily slide the ring on her ethereal finger, as it magically adjusted its size the moment she finished putting it on.  “What did you say your name was?”

“Apsara, my lady.”

Lifting a taloned hand to admire the ring, the banshee flashed a cruel smile. Goosebumps rose on Apsara’s arms under her robe sleeves. It felt like she’d walked into a cold room used to store meats!

“I do hope you’ve inherited your mother’s talents for jewelcrafting, Apsara. I look forward to doing business with your family in the future.”

Apsara clasped her hands in front of her and bowed low from her waist. She could feel the cold creeping in from the neckline of her robe now, slowly spreading down her back.

“Well then… there is an issue I’d like you to take care of for me, Apsara.” The banshee said as she finally managed to tear her eyes away from the ring. Apsara straightened up to look back at the undead woman.

“In the north, we have an.. infestation.” She continued, focusing her cold gaze on the priestess. “Of ogres. And these ogres have something I need. You should check in with the sergeant there about the details… before your teeth start chattering.” Melisara nodded at a tall orc standing guard in front of a building that was, unlike the rest of the worn-down hovels in Tarren Mill, made of stone.

Apsara clenched her teeth as she smiled and nodded in response. Without further ado the banshee glided off, disappearing to the shadows of the run-down inn.

Standing in the sunshine for a long time Apsara relished the feeling of warmth on her skin. It took her a while to realize Baile had stepped up to her and was gently touching her upper arm with his gloved hand.

“Meeting a banshee up close like that will make most people almost crazy from cold and fear.” He murmured quietly. “I will talk to the orc. As soon as I have all the information we need, we can head out and set up camp in the hills to the east – there is no way I am staying in this town with _her_ around - and rest.”

Relieved to be done with the banshee, Apsara nodded to Baile. He headed off towards the orc, she towards the inn. Entering the dusty building, she was greeted by a Forsaken man waving at her in a friendly manner.

“Oh, lady Elenn! I have a package and a letter for you!”

Walking closer, Apsara saw him holding a small bundle, wrapped in paper, and a sealed envelope on the top. He handed them to her and went back to his duties in the back of the room.

Pressed in the turquoise wax on the letter was her house’s seal.

Carefully opening the letter, Apsara saw the neat handwriting belonging to her sister Irinidalla, or Irin as her friends and family called her.

 _Hey Aps,_ the letter began. Apsara smiled at the familiar nickname.

_How’s the adventurer’s life treating you? I hope you are doing well. Mother assures us you are fine, but how would she know? I heard from her you have someone who’s making sure that you’re not getting into trouble, but she was really secretive about the details. Luckily, I heard from a service lady – you know who, she always gossips - who’d been with Mother to the Plaguelands a few weeks prior that it’s a really handsome sin’dorei. I’m so jealous. I wish I could be there with you!_

_Life back here is –mostly- the same as usual. Father and Detheran were finally called to the scout force that was to enter the Dark Portal. They left yesterday. It’s awfully quiet in here without them. I miss them already._

_Since you’re probably missing your luxuries, I’m sending you one of your favorite necklaces. The enchantment is still there too. Maybe it’ll prove useful._

_Love,_

_Irinidalla._

Apsara chuckled as she folded away the letter. Just like Irin to think of her, and to find out all about her mysterious travel companion before she did herself. It did seem like she might even know more than she had let on in the letter. Glancing out of the inn door to make sure Baile was still talking to the orc sergeant, she quickly started writing a reply.

This chance to know more about Baile was not something she’d pass easily. Quickly scratching back a reply while keeping half an eye on the inn entrance, she filled a neatly folded piece of parchment with a few lines. Sliding the parchment into the same envelope she’d gotten Irin’s letter in, she gave it to the innkeep to deliver and wandered back outside with her necklace safely stowed away.

* * *

 

That night, the two camped some ways away from Tarren Mill, by hills that lay in between the village and a river.

After having set up camp and lighting a fire to roast their food on, the pair sat down to consider their task.

“While you kept the banshee busy, I managed to find us a map of the fortress, too. Care to join me for a lesson in tactics?” Baile asked as he reached over to his magical bag and pulled out a large, rolled-up piece of parchment.

He was good, she had to admit. She got up from her bedroll and kneeled next to the map that Baile laid on the ground.

Sketched on the parchment was a large, multi-story fortress, roughly square in layout. The ground floor seemed to indicate the placement of small barracks and storage rooms as well as a library with stairs leading upstairs. On the upper floor, two hallways converged to a great dining hall in the middle of the building. A red X had been drawn here. “So, this is where the leader of the warband is?” she asked, tapping the cross with her finger.

“He’s done a great job of barricading himself in the best defended ruin of a fortress within miles. As he should, considering he has defied not one but two banshees, and to an extent, lady Sylvanas herself, by sneaking away the crown.” With narrowed eyes, he eyed the map critically. Quickly reaching over to grab small rocks from the ground next to him, he placed them in pairs in front of most doorways.

Apsara nodded. It would make sense for anyone to guard their doors in pairs, especially if they expected unwelcome company. She watched Baile going about placing many rocks outside the keep itself as well. The place was crawling with ogres!

“Regardless, I do believe I have a plan for us.” Baile revealed at last as he pulled two necklaces from his bag. The necklaces were identical, both with a slender silver chain and a small purple gem hanging from it. The gems caught the campfire’s light and sparkled in a way no gem she had ever seen would have done, and she found herself curious what type of stone it was.

“What is that?”

“These will grant the wearer a short-time invisibility.” He explained as he turned towards her, giving the necklaces a small shake. “We will be able to sneak into the fortress, assassinate the ogre war band leader without the need for excessive combat and hightail it out.”

“We won’t be fighting the ogres?”

“Absolutely not. There are too many for us – hells, there are too many for a small army in that fortress! And this is why we are going in with invisibility,” the paladin explained as he laid down the necklaces on the edge of the map. “Now we just have to choose a route, and make sure we have enough wits in us to make it to the roof afterwards. We’ll be making a grand exit!”

Trying to ignore the gnawing dread in her gut, Apsara concentrated on the map. “Well, there is only one entrance. So that’s covered. These kind of structures are too high for us to climb our way up, aren’t they?”

Baile nodded and rubbed his well-groomed goatee ( _how did it stay so neat, even with them having been several days in the wilderness?_ ). “The air up there is too cold. Even if we were dressed in all leather and fur, our fingers would freeze before we’d make it to the top. That’d be a terrible idea. I would like to keep all my digits, thank you very much.”

The two concluded that they would need to sneak through the front door, between many unsuspecting ogres, sneak their way up the likely creaky stairs, and only drop their invisibility to take out Mug’thol by surprise. Then the two would have to dash to the roof of the castle and escape with their limbs intact – by using a spell Apsara had been taught a long time ago. The spell that would allow them to levitate for a time and glide their way to safety.

The priestess concluded that Baile was insane.

But this might just work.


	7. Chapter 7

By early afternoon Apsara found herself staring up at a winding path, surrounded by a thickening forest of tall pine trees, that would lead them into the Alterac Mountains. At Baile’s recommendation she’d dressed warmly and wore a pair of leggings under her heaviest summer robe. She had pulled on a pair of boots instead of her customary slippers, and she’d tucked away a pair of gloves she bought off a street vendor in Tarren Mill. Feeling adequately prepared and confident in their strategy the two started climbing the steep road north.

The first hour of their climb was uneventful, but the farther into the mountains they traveled, the worse the condition of the road was. Often they had to step over wide cracks or stones that had fallen out of place, forming haphazard piles of rock on the road. The sunkissed fields of lower Hillsbrad Foothills turned into rugged mountainsides and shadowed patches of dark pine forest, and the temperatures dropped considerably. Sunshine was replaced by the gloomy, overcast sky typical to higher altitudes, and to the priestess, the mountains seemed drained of color. She already missed the lowlands.

“Have you been here before, Baile?” Apsara asked her bodyguard conversationally, delicately stepping over another yawning hole in the road.

Baile nodded, his silver ponytail bobbing, as he kept his gaze on the path in front of them. “Yes, I have,” he answered simply. His eyes unreadable, he continued in a quiet voice. “It’s a wonder this road lasted as long as it has. We’re getting closer to ogre territory.”

Not long after, the remains of the road simply disappeared altogether. The stones must have been carried away to construct buildings, Apsara thought to herself as she stood on the road-turned-rocky-path. Short distance away she could see the higher stone formations covered in a thin layer of snow. With surprise, she realized she could see her breath in the air now as she exhaled.

_Of course! Snow!_

She’d heard of it before, but never had seen it up close, and frost spells cast by her sister didn’t really count. Getting giddy now, she resisted the urge to bolt to a nearest pile of snow and sink her hands in it despite the biting cold. The paladin eyed her, as if reading her thoughts.

“This is where the hard part begins. Mind your step - I’d rather not you tumble all the way down the mountain.” Baile chuckled and pressed on. Staying as regal as she possibly could, Apsara followed suit.

The clouds above them were threateningly dark against the white mountaintops in the distance now, and Baile glanced upwards every now and then, his mouth pressing into a thin line as he did. The wind was picking up as the two finally finished climbing the long, steep path and found themselves surrounded by a snowy landscape.

She couldn’t resist the temptation anymore. Apsara crouched to gather a palmful of snow in her hand. The priestess marveled at the feel of it on her fingers and giggled in delight.

Baile looked at her like she was demented until the realization hit him. “You’ve never been to the mountains.” He turned his head away, chuckling to himself. “Of course.”

Letting the snow filter between her fingers, Apsara stood up again. The feeling of the cold, wet snow remained on her fingers, numbing them. She felt so inexperienced compared to the stern, pale paladin but refused to let it bother her as she turned to face him, her smile never fading.

“Let’s go. It looks like it might start snowing soon. It might even be a storm. I would rather be done by the time that happens.” Baile tilted his head to indicate the path leading through the forest.

As Baile turned his back, Apsara grabbed another handful of the snow, rolling a ball of it in her hands as she walked behind her unsuspecting bodyguard. Feeling sheepish and excited all at once, she raised her hand to throw her snowball.

Without a warning, Baile whirled around and tossed a snowball of his own – she had never seen him even take the snow! – that zipped past Apsara’s face. Yelping in surpise and delight, she ducked and reached out to throw her snowball that fell short of its target. Baile sidestepped, in one fluid motion grabbing another handful of snow. The sound of his laughter echoed back from the quiet forest as it finally began to snow.

Apsara stopped in her tracks, looking up at the sky. Large white flakes descended in erratic patterns, tossed around by the increasing wind. She momentarily forgot that Baile was about to land a square hit as she watched the quiet dance of the snow.

A snowball thudding at her feet woke her from her daydreaming, and Baile clapped his hands, clearing them of snow.

“Come, Apsara. We’ll have to finish this fight another day,” he reprimanded mockingly with a smile on his lips.

Finally tearing herself away from the hypnotic movements of the snowflakes, the priestess hurried to follow Baile.

Staying under the cover of the trees, the pair soon found the crumbling gates that would lead them to the ruined fortress. The snowfall intensified, soon making it difficult for them to see long distances. The paladin clicked his tongue, the sound muffled by the sound of the wind whistling past them.  “It is too late to turn back now. The storm will turn the roads dangerous, and there is no way except forward.”

Peering into the whiteness, he considered their situation with a frown.

“This could be useful, actually. We will sneak to the entrance of the fortress without the aid of the pendants and only activate them when we enter.”

Turning to face his ward, Baile handed her one of the pendants he had shown her the previous day.

“Put this on. I will activate them once we need to be invisible.”

Doing as she was asked, she looked at him for further instructions. He also handed her two small feathers meant for the levitate spells she was to cast when they were going to leave the fortress.  With a nod, she put them away in a small compartment in her belt meant for spellcasting ingredients.

“Now then… you remember the route we picked? You will be going first, and I will keep my hand on your shoulder so we won’t get separated. Try not to bump into anything or anyone. If we get discovered before we’re in the same room as Mug’thol, it might mean we’ll have to run out of there with a dozen ogres hot on our heels.”

Baile looked at Apsara, his earlier smile gone. He seemed to fall back into his stern leader role as he locked gazes with his ward. Suddenly nervous, Apsara swallowed and nodded.

“I will attack Mug’thol from behind. You grab the Crown, and stash it away. We’ll make our way to the roof and levitate out of the valley. Hopefully by then the storm will have calmed down a little. And even if it hasn’t… I don’t have any more of these pendants, and I have no resources to hire an army to attack this place. We have to make this attempt count,” he finished grimly.

Baile pulled on his own gloves and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. The priestess followed suit and rubbed her hands together, trying to warm them a little.

“Come, then. Let us be done with this task and be back to somewhere warm before the day is done.”

Easily squeezing through a hole in the old wall meant to block their entry, the two avoided a pair of grumpy ogres that were complaining about the storm that was getting worse. Apsara gaped at the height of the monsters as she passed them: they were twice as tall as the paladin. Their large, round bodies supported small heads with beady eyes and tusked mouths. As weapons these two carried clubs made out of small tree trunks and adorned with spikes hammered into one end. As armor they wore simple leather and fur – not very protective, but she assumed it was more for the warmth than any fear of intruders.

Who would be stupid enough to attack an encampment of ogres?

All around them, the flakes hindered the visibility as Baile led the way past old, broken down huts that were scattered in the area. Most huts were lit from within, as several ogres seemed to have chosen to camp out in the few huts that still had all their walls and roof. Clinging tightly to the shadowy corners of the ruins of the village, the pair carefully made their way to the fortress that loomed ahead.  The wind swept away their footsteps from the snow almost as soon as they passed, leaving no evidence for the few ogres stupid enough to brave the oncoming storm.

Finally pressing their backs against the wall near the entrance, Baile looked at Apsara.

“Are you ready?”

_Never_ , she found herself thinking suddenly. Her breath hitched in her dry throat, and she tried to assure him she was ready, when her words simply wouldn’t come out.

Baile frowned and laid his gloved hand tentatively on her shoulder. After glancing around to make sure they were shielded from the ogres, he closed his eyes. A soft, golden glow ignited under his hand. The glow spread across her shoulder, bringing with it warmth and flooding her with certainty. Streams of light sneaked their way up her neck and wove themselves in her blue-black hair, briefly lighting Apsara’s features as she stared at Baile in awe.

Whatever he had just done had calmed her nerves to the point she wondered if she had ever felt this at ease about _anything_ in her life before.

The paladin opened his eyes. They were unfocused for a moment until he focused his gaze on her and the light under his hand faded. Exhaling a long breath, he nodded at her, and she nodded back. Suddenly, she didn’t fear their mission.

_Ready_.

Using his free hand to tap once on his necklace, Baile activated the invisibility pendants and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Taking the cue, Apsara headed around the corner and into the fortress.

She wasn’t sure what she had expected. If she glanced in Baile’s direction, she couldn’t see anything at all, yet she still felt his hand on her shoulder. The feeling was odd. A mixture of anxiety and panic bubbled just beneath the surface, but the spell that had been cast on her had dulled the edge of those feelings. She walked on, entering the dimly lit corridor that served as the entry of the fortress.

The walls around them were of solid stone and there were no telltale signs of neglect inside the fortress proper. Looking up, she saw wooden beams running across the high ceiling. The only parts of the fortress that hadn’t been maintained were the moth-eaten wall banners depicting a great eagle swooping down with its talons extended. The great white and orange cloths had been partially ripped down, but in places the priestess could see the three stars that accompanied the great bird in the banners.

Recalling the map of the fortress, she glanced to the left as she head the rumbling laughter of an ogre coming from a storage room. Instinctively making herself smaller, she crouched slightly and felt her bodyguard follow her example.

Ever so slowly they crept around the corner, sneaking past the ogre rummaging through the crates in the storage room. Making their way to the central hall that housed the stairs to go to the second floor, Apsara saw two ogres sitting around a table playing cards. One of them had his finger up his nostril as he eyed the cards on the table and grumbled something. His companion replied in a gruff, impatient voice and slammed his fist on the table. The force of his blow sent tin tableware rolling and several large mugs clattered to the floor.

Grateful for the background noise, Apsara sidestepped towards the wooden staircase, making sure to keep distance from the overflowing bookshelf and several barrels tucked into the corner and to not turn her back to the ogres. Baile’s hand on her shoulder gave another, calming, squeeze. The priestess inhaled deeply and stepped on the wooden stairs. One tread at a time they ascended the stairs, making sure to move only as the noisy conversation of the ogres on the first floor continued.

Too focused on the commotion downstairs, Apsara almost bumped into an ogre standing at the top of the stairs. Baile jerked her to the side, pressing his arm across her chest to keep her flat against the wall as the ogre passed. Entirely oblivious to the intruders, the creature simply lumbered down the stairs, the wood creaking and bending under every heavy step. The acrid stench that followed the monster made her want to cough, but she quelled that urge immediately. Immensely grateful that the invisibility concealed her fierce blush at the contact with her bodyguard as well as her failure to notice the huge ogre, she stood still for a moment to catch her breath. The paladin’s hand returned to its usual position on her shoulder. Feeling the tips of her long ears burn, Apsara steeled herself and climbed the few last steps to the landing of the second floor.

Entering through a doorway on her left, the priestess arrived in an empty hallway that sloped up to her right and another doorway with yet another staircase to her left – the stairs that led to the roof.  Hearing noises at the end of the hallway, she headed towards the room she knew the leader of the ogres would be in. The wooden floor under them remained silent as they finally arrived at the entrance to the meeting hall, and Apsara thanked the Light for that.

Peeking into the room the elves saw two ogres standing at what passed for attention at the front of the large room, and one bigger one standing on an elevated platform, near a long table in the back of the room. The large ogre, who wore a crown made of sparkling gems, muttered to himself in a loud voice, staring at something on the table. Apsara felt Baile step close to her.

“You need to distract those guards,” he whispered in her ear. Apsara stiffened at the sensation of his warm breath across her cheek. She heard the rustle of something as Baile reached into his bag and felt him press something – a small cube by the feel of it - in her hand.

“Bring it to the other hallway and set it down a few paces down from the doorway. It will activate after 30 seconds,” Baile’s softly spoken instructions were quiet in her ear. “Once it activates, it will cause a noise just loud enough for those bodyguards to hear, but you want to be back in the room by then. You can activate it by pressing two opposite corners towards each other. Act fast – the invisibility of the pendants won’t last for much longer.”

The ogres standing at attention shifted and glanced at each other, one making a rude gesture over his shoulder towards Mug’thol and suppressing a rolling chuckle. The second one replied with a silly face.

“Once it goes off, we will finish this as planned, and head down the same hallway we came from to go to the tower.”

Apsara would have stared at Baile with an alarming degree of disbelief for the rattled string of instructions if she could have seen him. Instead, she felt herself nod an affirmative and started sneaking across the room to the door on the other side. The slightest creak of the floor revealed Baile was on the move towards his target.

A part deep within her recoiled at the pure insanity of the situation. The part that had been bolstered by Baile’s spell, whatever it had been, simply caused her to cautiously tiptoe her way across the room and peer through the doorway to look for additional guards. When she saw none, she quietly slipped into the hallway, eyeing her surroundings for the best place to put down the cube. Spotting a crack in the stonework of the wall, she crouched by it and hesitated.

Panic surged in her. Baile’s spell had worn off.

Her hand holding the cube shook and she struggled to keep her breathing even. Baile’s words about the invisibility enchantment of the pendants wearing off echoed in her thoughts and swallowed a whimper.

_Light help me_ , Apsara thought to herself.

Finally getting the shaking of her hands under control, she quickly activated the cube and tucked it into the crack in the wall. Struggling to stand on her wobbly legs, she half ran, half crawled towards the meeting hall that housed Mug’thol and his cronies. She pressed herself against the wall next to the doorway inside the room as the cube went off with a loud clink.

The two guards jerked their heads towards the doorway.

Praying to the Light now, Apsara held onto the wall for dear life as her legs threatened to crumple under her. The guards looked at each other with frowns on their faces, and one took tentative steps towards the doorway. After several steps he looked behind him, and gestured his fellow guard to follow. Mug’thol paid his guards no heed as they exited the room.

Several seconds after the guards stomped down the hallway, the enchantment in her pendant ran out. She came into view, and Mug’thol turned his head. The ogre blinked several times, looking at her.

As he opened his mouth to call out, Baile attacked.

In a flash, Baile came into view with his greatsword already in motion. Deftly the paladin sprung up on the table next to Mug’thol and cleaved the ogre’s head clean off his shoulders with one stroke from behind. The head and the crown flew off in an arc. The resounding thud of his lifeless body landing on the floor shook the room, and Apsara heard the guards down the hallway call out an alarm. Surprisingly numb to the gruesome sight, the priestess watched Mug’thol’s head land several feet from where Baile stood as blood started to pool underneath the still-twitching body.

Her strength came back to her as she realized it was the only way for her and Baile to survive. Mug’thol’s head had barely come to a halt as the priestess dove at it, grabbing the Crown of Will that had landed next to it. In a swift motion she stuck it in her magical pouch, closed the flap and ran out the other doorway, Baile close on her heels.

As they passed the doorway that led to the staircase leading downstairs, an ogre standing there spotted them and roared. Ignoring the commotion, the pair scrambled up the other set of stairs to get to the roof. Apsara’s legs burned as she ascended one set of stairs after the other, but she didn’t let the fatigue slow her down as she finally reached the landing that would lead them to the roof.

The elves practically shot out of the tower door, barely dodging a hurled chair that crashed into the doorframe behind them. It had begun to snow more heavily and the wind had picked up to dangerous levels, making the frozen rampart dangerously slippery. Snow whipped their faces, stinging their eyes and clouding their vision. Baile grabbed Apsara’s arm and in one swift move tugged her to the edge of the rampart. Several yells echoed from within the tower and the paladin pushed her behind him, still holding her close.

“That levitating spell, now!” he commanded, glancing at the tower door.

The priestess grabbed one of the two feathers that were safely tucked inside a small compartment on her belt and touched Baile’s shoulder with it, whispering a spell. The paladin’s feet lifted off the ground just as one of the ogres barreled through the doorway.

“I’ll be right behind you!” Apsara yelled and attempted to push him as she reached for her own feather. Baile nodded at the priestess with a grim expression as he let go of her arm and jumped off the edge of the rampart. He began gliding towards the forests in the distance, wind bringing him higher again.

Without looking, Apsara grabbed her own feather, attempting to ignore the fact a second ogre had appeared and the first one was trying to get a hold of her. She deftly cast her own levitation spell and plunged off the edge without hesitation. A gust of wind threw her off course, dangerously close to the wall of the castle and then whipped her in the opposite direction again. The castle disappeared from her sights as she was thrown this way and that, trying to protect her eyes from the snow that occasionally turned into small clumps of frozen hail and pelleted her whole body. She righted herself, having lost her sense of direction.

Freezing wind buffeted her robes as she continued her uncontrolled flight towards the forests of Alterac Valley. She failed in keeping herself upright by using her arms as balancers, and was promptly tossed into a somersault by the wind. Her belt pouches slammed into her hip painfully as another gust of wind picked her up and threw her upwards at a dizzying speed.  She closed her eyes and prayed she would not hit the ground at full speed. Wind kept carrying her and next thing she knew she felt something brushing against her leg. She was levitating past tall, sparse trees dotting the edge of the mountain range. Apsara could see the faint silhouettes of the evergreen forest underneath and rapidly drawing closer.

She was about to slam face first into a pine.

In a panicked motion Apsara reached out with her hands, seeking anything that would slow her trajectory. Wind pushed her between two trees and she grabbed the first branch she could reach with all her might. She hung on the branch against the power of the wind that wanted to pull her away. Her palms burned, the needles biting harshly into her hands as she was tugged ever closer to the tip of the branch.

Then the branch broke.

The power of the wind threw her with her back against a tree trunk with the broken branch in tow and her vision swam as pain shot up her previously injured arm. Wind kept her against the pine and she considered holding on to avoid further injuries, but realized the spell would wear out any moment – and she had no spare feathers to cast this spell again.

In a haze Apsara used the trunk of the pine to climb down, scrambling for handholds anywhere  she could find them and pulling herself towards the ground against the strong wind. Having lost all sense of the time while at the mercy of the fierce storm, she dully realized that any moment the spell could fade and let her crash to the ground that seemed so far below. Hand over hand she hurried towards the ground, digging her bleeding nails into the cracks in the bark and descending ever so slowly as the wind threatened to send her off into the air again.

She squinted her eyes against the whirling ice, snow and the pine needles around her. The snow-covered ground was getting close now.

Two thirds down to the ground her levitate spell faded.

She sank through the branches and plummeted towards the ground, hitting a tall pile of snow back first with enough force to send a shower of snow up in the air. Apsara hit her head against something, and another jolt of pain hit her shoulder. Her vision darkened.

 

* * *

 

“Get her out of there!” a voice called over the howling of the wind.

Apsara felt oddly warm and comfortable. Wasn’t she supposed to be cold? She didn’t want to open her eyes – in fact, all she wanted to do was to fall asleep in this comfortable darkness.

All of a sudden reality came crashing back to her and she tried to draw deep breath but found she couldn’t. The priestess opened her eyes and saw only hazy shades of grey. Her whole body was beginning to ache. She realized she couldn’t breathe, tightly as she was packed into the deep snow. Panic began to build in her mind.

She heard voices all around her, calling hasty instructions. Sound of something crunching sounded around her, and she was free again. Someone pulled Apsara out of the snow and she gulped air into her burning lungs.

Apsara opened her bleary eyes to look at her savior and saw a green-skinned humanoid lift her into his arms. Without further ado the orc set off at a full run. The priestess’s consciousness faded again.


	8. Chapter 8

Baile landed hard, skipping and skidding between the tall spruces and firs. Sparing his surroundings the quickest glance, he realized he’d fallen in a forest of dark evergreens much like the one near the ogre fortress. The day was turning to evening, and darkness was falling fast in the thickly grown forest. He was covered from head to toe in a thin sheet of freezing snow as he finally came to a halt. He shielded his eyes with his hand as he tried to look up, scanning the sky for a telltale dark silhouette of the priestess.  The seconds stretched into minutes as he forced himself to face the full fury of the stinging snowfall that threatened to bury him. Knowing he would freeze to death if he didn’t start moving soon, he stomped his feet and tried to ignore the growing fear that was making his chest clench painfully.

“Apsara!” he yelled into the snow-covered forest.

What had he been thinking? How had he expected them to ever manage their daring escape unscathed in a storm like this? They should have turned back the moment he had spied the dark clouds above the mountains. Instead, he had turned stubborn and prideful at the challenge and decided to go through with their mission nonetheless. And now they had been separated.

He began to move, following the direction of the wind in an effort to keep his blood flowing. Never letting his gaze lower from the sky for more than was strictly necessary for him not run face first into a tree, Baile stubbornly began putting one foot in front of the other.  

Over the howling of the wind, he heard someone call out past the line of trees ahead. Something crashed to the ground with a thud and a cloud of scattering snow that was quickly swept away by the wind. With a surge of adrenaline the paladin took off at a run.  As he crashed between two thick firs, he saw several silhouettes in the gloom. Two of them held storm lanterns that emitted weak light around the base of a tall pine under which a pile of snow had been stirred.

Finally arriving at a viewing distance, Baile saw a group of orcs digging into the snow.  One of them was yelling orders at the rest. The orc, dressed in furs, heavy leathers and a kilt decorated in a tribal fashion, whirled after having seen Baile approach from the corner of his eye. A shaman, he assumed. Immediately the paladin raised his arms in a gesture of surrender, and slowed to a walk despite feverishly wanting to run to the pile of snow the orcs were digging at.

The orc shaman stared at him suspiciously. He was about to say something until one of the orcs called out.

“She’s alive!”

He saw them lift the limp form of the priestess from the snow. Baile’s eyes locked on her and his knees almost buckled when he saw just how blue her lips were.

Seeing the desperate expression on Baile’s face, the orc shaman motioned him to follow as the orc who had picked up Apsara took off at a run along a path between the trees.  

* * *

The group followed the path that was almost undiscernible under the shifting masses of snow, passed by a tall wooden fence and were ushered through a large courtyard into a great fortress made of stone. As soon as they entered through the wooden double-doors, the armored warriors standing guard inside raised their spears to block Baile’s entry.

“Stand down. He might be frozen to the point you can’t tell what he is, but he’s with us,” the orc shaman grunted. He eyed Baile suspiciously over his shoulder as the group continued down a corridor.  “One wrong move, and you’ll be skewered before you can say ‘cat’, elf.”

Too numb and worried to care, Baile simply nodded and followed the shaman without offering any resistance. The orc carrying Apsara hurried into what looked like a small infirmary, furnished with several beds, and laid the woman on the bed at the back of the room. The shaman motioned Baile to help him as the other orc exited the room.

The paladin shook the snow off of himself the best he could before he helped the orc pull off Apsara’s heavy cloak and disentangle her belt with its’ multiple pouches, discarding the items in a pile at her bedside. Baile could only stand there as he watched the shaman examine Apsara’s head and neck.

 “She fell heavily. What was she doing in that tree?”

“It’s.. a long story. “ Baile didn’t avert his eyes from the pale, unmoving form of Apsara.

“Now that sounds like a story worth hearing,” the shaman chuckled mirthlessly as he gently laid his hand on Apsara’s shoulder. A wave of healing energy burst forth, cascading across her arm and upper body in blue mist. “Luckily it seems she’s as lucky as she is stupid to be climbing trees in that storm. I think,” he continued, clicking his tongue. “That nothing is broken – bruised, strained and painful as hells, but nothing too serious -  but that remains to be seen when she wakes up.”

Finally, Baile glanced up, not daring to believe his ears.  “You think she is going to recover.”

The orc simply shrugged, his armored vest jingling slightly at the movement. “Most likely. The snow softened her fall, and it seems like she’s one tough elf.” Something akin to a grin rose to the orc’s lips. “Name’s Kremor, by the way.”

“Baile. And she is Apsara.” Baile nodded at the form of the prone priestess. Relief at the news that she was going to be fine flooded him, and he finally sank down on a low stool next to the bed. Color was slowly returning to Apsara’s face, and Baile felt light headed at the pure luck they had had running into the orc patrol in the forest.

Kremor finally lifted his hands off of Apsara’s shoulder and nodded. “So, what happened?” The shaman sat down on another stool on the other side of the priestess’s bedside and eyed Baile with unveiled curiosity. His amber-colored eyes shone with mischief as if he couldn’t wait to hear what the two had been up to.

Shortening the story and omitting details about the Crown, Baile told him about their mission in the mountains, and about their daring escape into the storm from the fortress walls. Kremor promptly burst into laughter that echoed off the stone walls. Not really in the mood for his levity, Baile glared at him. For the first time he had the chance to look the shaman up and down. The orc’s hair was a dark brown, and was interwoven with colorful beads.  His skin was a mottled green, and a deep scar ran down his cheek past the corner of his mouth.

“You have some guts, Baile!” he chortled. “So old Mug’thol is dead, huh? Who would have believed that…”

Rising from his seat, Kremor made to leave the room. “Feel free to rest here. I’ll have someone bring some food soon, so you don’t need to leave your sweetheart’s side.”

The paladin jerked his head in the shaman’s direction. “She is not my sweetheart. I’m simply her-“ The word ‘bodyguard’ died in his throat. How could he ever call himself that again? ”… tutor,” he tried to explain.

Kremor’s grin remained as he turned and waved with his hand. “Not with the way you’re looking at her, Baile.” The orc left the room, chuckling to himself.

Shaking his head and concluding the shaman was out of his mind, Baile looked at Apsara. She seemed comfortable enough under a heavy, quilted blanket. Finally he bent to retrieve her magical pouches. Opening one, he spied the sparkling crown and sighed. At least after all that trouble, they had succeeded in their mission – and lived to tell the tale. Baile leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands in self-loathing. He was cold and miserable, and felt like he deserved it.

The mission had been a hair’s breadth away from utter disaster.

In the quiet of the room he could hear Apsara’s steady breathing and his own swirling thoughts. He was ashamed of himself. Baile had once been a captain to an elite group of soldiers, but now… he could not even manage a simple retrieval without bringing mortal danger to everyone involved. The mere thought made him deeply angry at himself. He had failed, and his honor demanded him to pay for it.

Straightening up in his chair, he came to a decision. He would escort Apsara back to the Elenn family manor as soon as she was better and face whatever consequences awaited him for his failure as a bodyguard. He winced. A younger, more formal version of himself would have gladly offered his punisher the figurative sword. But as he was right now, he was certainly not looking forward to being on the receiving end of the Elenn matron’s anger.

Whether he would survive the consequences depended solely on Apsara’s recovery.

Someone entered the room, and Baile tilted his head towards the noise. To his great surprise, the newcomer was a grumpy-looking Forsaken woman carrying a platter. Her straw blonde hair had been neatly tied back and folded up with a pin, leaving strands of her hair pointing skywards at the back of her head. She was in full battle gear – layers of shiny, interlocking plate creaked slightly as she moved. Baile determined her to not be the usual servant type, either.

“That braindead shaman needs to serve his own guests,” the woman hissed under her breath as she stomped towards him. With a flourish she slammed the platter down on a side table by the bed, jostling the bowls of stew placed on it. Without making eye contact with the paladin, she stomped her way back out, grumbling all the while.

As the Forsaken woman exited the room, Baile could hear the shaman raising his voice in the hallway outside. From the sounds of it, Kremor had caught some of the complaints the woman had been none-too-subtly voicing.  Locking the argument out of his mind proved somewhat more difficult than he expected; Kremor’s deep voice carried far and vibrated off the stone walls as he chided the Forsaken. A small smile came to his lips, unbidden. Despite the Forsaken’s standoffish demeanor and Kremor’s booming retorts, it seemed like the two had been friends for a while. There was a familiar, routine-like flow to their fight, and when all was said and done, Baile could not sense any hostility in the shaman as he returned to the infirmary to check up on Apsara.

“Don’t mind Nayanna. She has been like that since the storm is keeping us all locked up indoors. Doesn’t take well to not being able to move out and about, that one,” Kremor told Baile as he sat down by Apsara’s bedside again.

Baile nodded as a reply, without taking his eyes off the priestess.

Kremor eyed the paladin from underneath his bushy eyebrows. “Sitting there and staring at her won’t help, Baile. I’ll keep an eye on you dar-, ehm,  Apsara. Go do something else. Eat. Sleep. Polish your sword or do whatever you fighter types do when you don’t have something to slash into pieces. Maybe ask Nayanna to spar with you – yes, that would make her day. No, scratch that -  it would make her whole week. It’s been a while since anyone around here wanted a beating badly enough to go against her.”

Logically thinking, Baile knew Kremor was right. There was absolutely nothing he could do right now even if he wanted to, and he hated every moment of it.  Forcing himself to tear his gaze away from Apsara, he stood up and nodded at Kremor.

He didn’t leave the infirmary despite the urge to work out his frustrations. Ignoring Kremor’s presence, he unstrapped his weapon and armor. Finally, he forced down some stew no matter how little appetite he had. As his exhaustion caught up with him, he settled on one of the beds in the infirmary and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Baile woke with a start. Sitting upright on the bed in the infirmary, he glanced around.

Kremor was noisily snoring on his chair next to Apsara’s bed. Nayanna was sitting next to him with her arms folded, glowing eyes on the unconscious priestess. As soon as she caught him moving, she raised her eyes and focused her gaze on him instead.

“Done sleeping? Good. It’s been more than half a day now,” the woman noted just loud enough for Baile to hear.

Groggily Baile swung his legs off the edge of the low bed and planted his feet on the ground. “Any news?” he asked Nayanna quietly.

Nayanna nodded. “She was awake for a bit. Poor thing. Panicked and tossed about until we told her you were here too.” The Forsaken stood and rolled her shoulders. She had switched out of her plate to more comfortable leather vest and pants as well as tall boots, Baile noted.

“Kremor said she will indeed make a full recovery. You two are extremely lucky you were found, and that Kremor was available,” Nayanna finished, narrowing her eyes at the paladin.

Baile raised his hands in defeat. “I know. This whole mess is my fault.”

The Forsaken scoffed. “At least you admit it. Now, I’ve been sitting here for hours doing nothing. Might as well let these two sleep.” Nayanna crossed the room and beckoned to Baile. He followed her out of the door, casting one more glance over his shoulder at Apsara.

The two walked through hallways within the fortress, passing guards and peons alike. Most scampered out of Nayanna’s path, and Baile arched an eyebrow. The Forsaken’s posture was rigid like a fully drawn bow as she marched on.

Entering a large hall through a pair of doors, Baile understood.

Several training dummies had been set up along the edges of the rectangular room, and the tall walls were practically covered in weapons of all kinds. From the tiniest dagger to the largest halberd,  this training hall had it all.  Windows far above his head streamed bright white light from outside and illuminated the hall along with the torches that were hung at regular intervals between the weapon racks. Two orcs were sparring at one end of the hall, and they paused long enough to give Baile a bewildered stare before continuing.

Resigning himself to the fact that he was to be the victim that Nayanna would unleash her pent up frustrations on, Baile followed her to one of the weapon racks. “Steel or wood? I’m fine with either.”

Nayanna’s features lit up in a sardonic smile. “Let’s start with practice swords and see if you still think that’s a good question to ask me afterwards.”

Shrugging at her bravado, Baile picked up a long wooden sword that most resembled his own. He gave the fake broadsword a tentative swing. The balance in the crude weapon was a far cry from his own, but it would have to do.  The Forsaken picked up two wooden, sleek one-handed swords from the wall – weapons that had seen much use, Baile could tell from the worn edges.

The duo stepped away from the wall of weapons. Baile stretched, trying to work the knots from his muscles. With a flick of her wrists Nayanna rolled her swords experimentally, sending them dancing.  Baile ignored the display clearly meant to intimidate him and finally slid his right leg back, settling in a combat stance.  The firm, leather-wrapped handle under his hands felt soothing. This was something he could deal with.

Responding to his gesture, Nayanna rotated her upper body slightly away from him, sliding one foot back in a similar fashion and letting her shoulder lead. She lowered her stance by bending her knees and leaning forward to the point the tips of her swords were almost touching the floor. The warrior swayed, balancing on the balls of her feet.

A hushed silence fell in the training hall.

Nayanna grinned and launched herself at her adversary. Baile lifted his sword defensively, ready to parry or to thrust as necessary. The Forsaken came in, chopping with her left sword and reaching out to stab with her right.  Baile sidestepped the stab and parried the chop, quickly stepping back to avoid the slash that followed the stab.

With Nayanna, he wouldn’t have to hold back.

Laughing out loud now, Baile went on the offensive. With a ferocious diagonal slice he sent Nayanna’s slash out wide and easily dodged another stab from her left sword. One, two steps and he was at the perfect distance from Nayanna who had been caught off guard by his quick movements. With barely any effort he raised sword to strike at her from above, putting his weight behind it and forcing Nayanna to parry with both of her weapons simultaneously. Pressing in close now that her weapons were otherwise occupied, Baile came eye to eye with the Forsaken. He winked at her. Nayanna glared at him over her crossed swords.

Baile used the leverage he had to launch himself backwards, out from the warrior’s reach. His point had been made. The orcs who had been sparring at the other end of the the hall had stopped and were standing at a safe distance, gaping at the pair.

“How about we kick it up a notch?” Baile smirked at Nayanna.

More orcs had begun to stream into the training hall now. The crowd was keeping a cautious distance to the fighters, who now retreated to pick up the weapons of their choice. Finally finding a beautifully balanced bastard sword with a simple pommel and cross guard, Baile experimentally slashed the air with it. He had chosen a bastard sword to be able to swap to a one-handed grip at a moment’s notice – Nayanna’s speed had kept him on his toes, but with a shorter and thus lighter sword he should be able to offset the advantage the warrior had on him by using two swords.

From two scabbards, the warrior brought forth two long and slender swords that were slightly curved on one edge. They had almost no crossguard to speak of, and seemed much more fragile than Baile’s lumbering bastard sword – but he was certain that those sword were razor sharp. They had not been made for blocking, but for cutting anything and everything within their reach. Settling in her low combat stance, Nayanna beckoned the paladin with one of her swords.

Baile’s blood was racing now. He had not had a challenge like this in a long time.

“Until somebody submits?”

“First blood,” Nayanna told him in a low, threatening voice.

A low murmur rang through the crowd. Baile arched his eyebrows. That Nayanna was willing to risk getting herself cut when Forsaken wounds were almost impossible to heal properly and would result in her body degrading meant that she wasn’t thinking clearly anymore.  He had seen this kind of stubbornness before and knew that he would have to make her submit before someone got killed.

Nodding his reluctant agreement, Baile raised his sword. _Have it your way._

Nayanna charged. Her face a mask of dark anger, she slashed horizontally from the left with both of her swords at the same time. Baile didn’t bother to block or parry for this strike, but simply stepped back out of the range. Nayanna snarled and pirouetted closer to him, continuing with her horizontal slash.

Blocking again and again, Baile slowly stepped back to try and goad Nayanna into lashing out uncontrollably at him. The warrior continued her advance steadily, step by step as she rained him with sharp pokes and stabs. Her swords were a shiny blur in the gloom of the training hall. The sound of metal on metal and the grunts of the combatants echoed off the high ceiling as Nayanna pressed her advance.

Baile was starting to run out of patience for the warrior’s antics. Keeping his eyes peeled for a break between Nayanna’s rhythmical strikes was costing him a lot of energy – something he didn’t have in excess right now. Slowly, a pattern emerged in the warrior’s routine. She favored her left hand over her right, and the strikes from the left were better-aimed in general.  Her footwork was excellent, Baile thought to himself, but she was letting her emotions get the best of her. Every time a strike was parried, it seemed as if the warrior was getting angrier.

Spotting his chance, the paladin struck.

Batting aside a badly aimed strike from Nayanna’s right sword, Baile stabbed past her defenses straight at her chest. Nayanna turned on the balls of her feet and twisted out of the way. Her routine had been shattered.

Using two hands for his wild slashes now, Baile reversed their direction. He forced Nayanna back with precise, fast cuts that the warrior barely deflected, even with her two swords. In an effort to further confuse the warrior, Baile switched the weapon into a one-handed grip and fell into a sideways combat stance, making himself into a smaller target. His reach was even more beyond Nayanna’s now.

Nayanna fumbled with her right sword and Baile was quick to strike at her hand. In a split second, Nayanna made the decision to let the sword go. It clattered to the floor, leaving her with only one sword, but she hadn’t lost yet. The crowd gasped in unison.

“Do you yield?” Baile let the tip of his sword lower slightly.

The warrior bared her teeth, eyes blazing. “Never.”

Increasing her tempo in a desperate attempt to put the paladin in his place, Nayanna charged again. Attempting to stay at all times too close to the paladin for him to effectively bring his sword to bear, her sword was now constantly forcing him to dance out of the way. Baile was holding his sword almost upright, parrying strikes with the smallest of movements but was unable to mount a counterattack.

Attempting to bypass Baile’s defense from the side was a grave mistake.

As Nayanna reached to her left, trying to get past that protective wall Baile had created, she leaned too far out. Baile half-turned, and before the warrior knew what happened, he kicked her straight in the ribs. The Forsaken lost her footing, stumbling face-first onto the cold stone floor.  The crowd cheered.

Baile stepped on Nayanna’s sword. The Forsaken tried to tug the weapon back, but realized it was futile as Baile’s blade pressed against her throat.

“Yield.”

Nayanna glowered at him.  “I told you it was until first blood. Be done with it.”

The paladin wanted to protest, but the crowd seemed to hold their breaths in anticipation of his reaction. Finally Baile sighed and lifted his blade just a little, placing the point at the back of her neck. Very carefully he let the sword sink ever so slightly, enough to break the yellowed skin. A drop of dark blood surfaced.

The crowd went wild.

Cheers filled the training hall. Nayanna picked herself up from the floor and dusted herself off while the orcs surrounded Baile, congratulating him on the win against the fierce warrior. He saw Kremor pushing through the crowd and trying to get heard over the noise. The shaman finally managed to make this way next to Baile and he motioned towards the door that led out of the training hall. “Apsara is awake!” Kremor yelled, barely audible over the orcs cheering and yelling.

Baile started pushing past the crowd none too gently. He shoved orcs out of the way, who didn’t seem like they minded, as they had turned their attentions towards the sheepish-looking warrior.  Leaving his sword by the door, he broke into a run towards the infirmary.

As he entered the infirmary, he saw Apsara propped up by the pillows on her bed. He also saw a large, swirling portal the size of a large mirror floating in the air by her bedside. In the portal Baile could faintly see another blood elf woman, who looked quite a lot like Apsara. Only this woman had her shoulder-length hair flowing freely instead of having it tied back like Apsara did.

“Oh, Baile. Meet my sister, Irinidalla.”


	9. Chapter 9

The second time Apsara came to, she felt almost comfortable.

Consciousness returned to her in gentle waves. With it, it brought the memories of her wild soar across the sky, slamming into a tree, and finally plummeting into a pile of snow.  More vague memories of sharp, stinging pain in her neck, icy cold snow clinging to her face, flickering torchlight and the silhouette of a broad-shouldered orc towering over her, fluttered across her jumbled thoughts. As she tried to grasp the memories to examine them further, they slipped away like water between her fingers, leaving her frustrated.

Apsara was safe – she knew that much. She had been brought somewhere. And then...

_Where was Baile?_

She desperately grabbed onto that thought and it pulled her to the surface. She could feel the form of, what she assumed, a thin pillow under her head, and the weight of a blanket over her chest. Cracking open her bleary eyes, Apsara saw the blurry forms of sturdy stone walls and ceiling, and the torches hanging on the walls that cast their yellow, flickering light across the room. The blue-white banners that were hanging on the walls were sent swaying with each puff of warm air coming from the candles and the torches in the room.

Before she could turn her head, someone spoke. A low, soothing voice alerted her to a presence on her left.

“You’re awake, Apsara. Good.”

Apsara found she could turn her head easily enough, and she did so slowly, trying to ignore the blurry edges in her vision. The orc from Apsara’s vague memories sat next to her bed, his arms crossed over his chest.

He knew her name. That meant that Baile must have told him.

Another vague memory of the orc’s face flickered into life in the back of her mind. Yes, Baile had indeed told him about her. She’d been asking about the paladin before, from this very orc. He had told her… what had he told her? Apsara struggled to move, to remember, to sit upright as she dug through her hazy memories.

_That Baile was safe._

Deep relief enveloped her, and almost reflexively she ceased the battle she was waging with her body. Her eyelids drooped of their own accord. The pleasant feeling that blossomed in her chest almost sent her back to sleep. She inhaled deeply, forcing her chest – her body felt so heavy - to rise and fall.

_Wake up, wake UP._

The sensation of the blanket shifting across her chest and legs forced the rest of her numbness to fade. Surfacing from her stupor took a moment. With all her might, she concentrated solely on bringing the world back to focus, trying to stop the faint ringing in her ears. Her efforts were rewarded – suddenly she could clearly see the orc sitting there, his deep amber eyes looking at her from beneath his black eyebrows.

“How do you feel?” he asked her simply.

Apsara chuckled weakly, forcing the sound out of her dry throat. “I feel… alive.”

“That’s the spirit!” He watched her carefully, waiting for her to collect her thoughts as she became more aware of her surroundings. Ever so patiently he kept an eye on the priestess struggling to lose the foggy shroud of half-sleep-half-unconsciousness.

Experimentally, Apsara attempted to flex her toes and fingers. Sometimes back injuries could result in paralysis that, when not treated immediately, would become permanent even when trying to heal them by magical means. Adding to that, she might have been in the snow for a while. Frostbite could have been another cause for her to lose the use of her extremities. To her relief, she could feel her toes – and the stinging pain in her hands. She realized that white bandages had been wrapped tightly around her fingers that had been badly torn by the sharp tree bark. Judging by the throbbing, she might have lost a nail in the process.

“Thank you for watching over me, …” Apsara started. She curled her fingers and winced against the throbbing pain.  Hundreds of needles were stabbing at the sensitive skin of her hands, but she ignored it to the best of her ability.

“Kremor,” he offered, leaning back on his chair. Kremor eyed her up and down and harrumphed. “In all honesty, you pulled through most of it yourself. The only thing that was a good and proper mess was your shoulder.” He clicked his tongue. “Think you hurt it before, no?”

Apsara nodded. “I did. That spider regretted it very soon after, though.”

Kremor raised an eyebrow at that.

“It’s a long story. Could you help me sit?”

With Kremor’s help, Apsara then hauled herself into an upright position on her cot, and glanced down. Her robes shredded in places, but covered enough for her to ignore the matter for the time being. The room swayed in her vision.  Weakly waving away her caretaker’s worry, she fought the waves of dizziness until she could see straight again. Something akin to respect for the diminutive priestess glinted in Kremor’s eyes as he spoke again.

“Welcome to Frostwolf Keep, Apsara.” Kremor swept his large hands in a grand gesture before returning them to his chest.

Apsara was getting the feeling Kremor liked his theatrics. “How did we get here?”

In short, Kremor described the night that she and Baile had been swept into the valley. A shiver ran down Apsara’s back as she listened to the widely gesturing shaman. Not for the first time since leaving the family manor, Apsara felt exhilarated over having simply survived, and she almost smiled at the thought. Maybe she had the makings of an adventurer after all. As he finished his story, the priestess folded her hands in her lap and bowed her head.

 “If not for you, we might have - no, we most certainly would have - both died in the snow. We are in your debt.”

The shaman shrugged at this, noncommittedly. “What is the point of worrying about what-ifs and would-haves? I heard the short of it from your darl… teacher himself.  And don’t worry, the object of your hunt is safe, too.” Kremor jerked a thumb in the direction of her bags that had been piled up next to her bed.

Apsara swore she would have needed to sit down if she already hadn’t. Everything that had happened was, in the end, worth it. Through crazy circumstance and some quick thinking, they had made it.

 “Light be praised,” she muttered under her breath.

Kremor snorted. “I’d say luck had a huge part to play here.”  He stood up and dusted off his kilt. “Since you’re apparently feeling well enough to not fall over, I think I can go get us something to eat. Is there something else you need?”

Now that he mentioned it, her stomach growled. How long had it been since she had eaten? Apsara closed her pouch and leaned back on her bed, trying to ignore the insistent whine of her stomach. “I suppose letting Baile know that I’m awake wouldn’t hurt. He must have been worried.” 

“He really has been, trust me.” Kremor winked pointedly at her as he headed past her and out of the room.

Something in her stomach coiled tight. The mental image of the proud paladin sitting at her bedside, worrying until the creases of worry in his brow became even deeper, made her want to tell him how sorry she was for not having been more careful. For not being as brilliant as he was in combat. For making him worry so.

Catching and rejecting that thought, she bent towards her bags again to retrieve the paper package she had received from her sister. From this package she clumsily pulled forth a silver chain at the end of which was a small, oval locket that glittered in the torchlight. Among the intricate depictions of jasmines and stylized leaves, the Elenn family seal was carved into the curving surface of the silver locket.

It had been a long time since she had used this locket, but according to her sister, the enchantment still worked. Now was a good time to try – her family hadn’t heard from her in a while, and this was the fastest and most convenient method to get the news across. She hoped it could work across the distance there was between her and the recipient.

What would she tell her sister? The truth?

No, she decided – that would only cause her timid sister to run to their mother, needlessly scaring her and getting Baile in trouble for what had happened in the ogre fortress - and directly after that - before he could explain himself. At all costs should she avoid any panic about their current situation. She only wanted her family to know she was alright.

Brushing a bandaged finger against the latch on the side, she unlocked the locket and opened it, releasing the enchantment. A blue spark of magic danced across her palm and jumped on the bed. With a swirl, it skittered towards the end of the bed, finally launching itself in the air.  Apsara lowered her hand.

The spark turned into a purple swirl that expanded into a large oval-shaped portal, no larger than a common wall mirror. At first, the image stayed foggy. Patiently waiting for the magical connection to be established, Apsara smoothed out her hair and smiled, trying to appear at ease.

Several breaths later, the face of Irinidalla became clear in the portal. Her hair was of the same blue-black as Apsara’s, but was cascading freely past her shoulders instead of being tied back.  From what little Apsara could see, it seemed she was sitting in the grand library of the Elenn manor, surrounded by a stack of books as usual.

Irinidalla, the youngest of the three sisters, was often the meekest and most shy, but likely the most brilliant when it came to arcane knowledge and raw intellect. Nothing made her happier than losing herself between the tall bookshelves groaning under the weight of all the collected tomes on history, magic, tactics and many more subjects. Truth be told, Apsara had always envied her ability to study long days and to simply absorb all the information she read.

Now her childlike eyes were open wide as she stared at her oldest sister with an expression of mixed surprise and joy, seemingly ignoring the sorry state of Apsara’s robes and the bandages around her hands.

“Apsara!” Irinidalla gasped. Apsara could see her bouncing up and down on her chair happily.

“Irin! How nice to see you,” the priestess chuckled.

“It’s been… so long… and we… were worried…” Her younger sister stuttered, making several false starts with her sentences. Her excitement was endearing, and the only reassuring and familiar thing in this strange place.

“It’s alright. Both me and Baile are fine. We are having a little detour, that is all.” Willing a confident smile on her face to placate her sister’s worries and pushing away her own, Apsara watched her sister almost knock over a pile of heavy books across the table in her excitement.

“What happened?” Irin asked as she finally managed to stabilize the wobbling mountain of books with two hands.

The door to the infirmary slammed open. Apsara turned her head to look. 

Baile had barged in and was now still, mid stride, staring at the floating portal. He had been sparring, it seemed, his black shirt hugging his muscular torso in places. The strands of silver hair that framed his angular face were clinging to the sides of his face, and he seemed flustered. Seeing the portal, his expression adjusted to distant coolness and he straightened himself out to his usual straight-backed, almost regal, posture. In the span of a few heartbeats he stood at the door as if he had meant to be walking in on their conversation and patiently waited for her to invite him in.

Forcefully tearing her gaze from Baile, Apsara cleared her throat and made the introductions.

“Baile, meet my sister Irinidalla.”

In one fluid movement Baile clicked his heels together and bowed slightly. Irin’s eyes darted between her sister and Baile as he made his way towards Apsara’s bedside. She tilted her head in a puppy-like manner as she watched the paladin finally came to a halt.

“You were about to tell me what happened,” Irin reminded Apsara finally. She smiled shyly at Baile, who was standing at attention with his hands clasped behind his back.

Apsara, not wanting to lie outright, carefully considered her words before speaking them. “We succeeded in retrieving the Crown - I will tell you that story sometime - but we’re having a short stay in the Alterac Valley. The most important part is that we’re fine, the mission was a success, and mother can be at ease. I will report back in a week or so, and let her know where we will be going from here.“

From the corner of her eye Apsara thought she saw Baile’s eyes turn to her for a moment. He shifted his weight subtly from one foot to another in what seemed like a confused gesture to the priestess.

Irin nodded several times enthusiastically. She turned her head, hearing a call outside the portal enchantment, in the library.

“Ah, I have to go. Be sure to check in in a week, or mother WILL send someone after you. Aps, take care. You too, sir Baile!” Irinidalla nodded at the two and waved goodbye ass the portal started shrinking. When it at last winked out, Apsara turned towards Baile. She found his gaze locked on her, his careful neutral expression breaking apart as the cold look in his eyes faded.

The silence between the two stretched.

Baile unclasped his hands from behind his back and exhaled a long breath.  Still not speaking, he took slow, measured strides to Apsara’s bedside and carefully sat down on the end of the bed, sitting with one leg tucked under him and the other planted on the floor. His eyes never left her, and Apsara couldn’t help but shift under that intense stare. She could never get used to the way he seemed to gaze straight into her soul.

Without saying a word, Baile flicked his eyes across the ugly purple and green bruise peeking out from under the partially torn collar of Apsara’s robe. His gaze wandered down to the rips in the side of the  bodice where branches had torn away long strips of the cloth, then followed the form of her sleeves down to her bandaged hands and looked up again. Relief, shame, and guilt could be seen in the way his brows were knitted and he self-consciously brushed his hands across his knees.  Apsara wanted desperately to comfort him. 

Snapping out of his trance, Baile finally cleared his throat.

“How are you feeling?” he finally managed. Apsara watched his hands squeeze into fists.

“I’m fine. Kremor has been taking good care of me.”

The paladin’s fists relaxed. “Yes, he indeed has,” he said dryly. “While I, on the other hand-”

Without thinking, Apsara swung her feet off the bed, ignoring the wave of dizziness the movement caused, and scooted closer to Baile. Before he could react she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. She could smell his scent as she closed her eyes and buried her face in his shoulder – leather oils, polished steel, sweat, and ash. Baile stiffened at the contact, but did not break it.

“Stop beating yourself up for what happened. We are both alive and well,” she murmured.  “I’m not made of glass. I’m alive because of you. Nothing else matters.”

She could feel his posture relaxing as she heard him taking in a slow breath and exhaling it out through his nostrils. To her great surprise, a hesitant arm slowly wrapped around her and the paladin’s cheek rested lightly against her head.  All of a sudden, the gesture felt deeply intimate. Something about being close to him reassured her, and as she closed her eyes, the priestess briefly wondered if he felt the same way. Apsara’s pulse surged, increasing to the point she could hear the rush of blood in her ears.

“It would be fine if you weren’t mine to protect, Apsara. I’ve sworn this on my _life_. This goes above anything else – you must understand.” The arm around her squeezed her tighter, and Apsara’s heart skipped a beat. Her throat was dry – she remembered she hadn’t had anything to drink since waking up. Her arms felt weak, but she held on as if her life depended on it.

“You know it better than anyone. Unless you were planning on carrying me in a magical bag, I’ll never be entirely safe. I accept that.” To her own ears, her voice sounded thin, weak. In that moment she cursed inwardly for trying to explain herself. “And so should you.”

Baile chuckled, the low sound vibrating from his chest. The warmth in that sound was like a warm summer rain. “Wise as ever, priestess.”

For a moment, there was only silence in the infirmary. Apsara lost herself in listening to Baile’s steady heartbeat and for a while, it felt like they were alone in the world. For a moment, Apsara struggled to breathe. Being so close to him was all of a sudden intimidating and deeply comforting, all at once.

His hand retreated from her shoulder, only to come around and gently cup her chin and tilt her head upwards. The priestess let go of his neck, opened her eyes and looked up at him. Her heart pounded in her chest like a drum, increasing to a staccato when she met his eyes. He smiled at her – a true smile that reached his eyes.

“Foooo- _OH_!” came Kremor’s voice from the other end of the room.

The blood elves whirled, staring at the shaman currently elbowing his way in with a tray of food. “I’ll come back later!” he bellowed, almost tripping on the threshold on his way out.

Apsara and Baile laughed. The two retreated from each other, the moment dispelled.

“Eat, Aps. Get your strength back. You’re going to need it if we’re going to train until we leave – where ever we may be heading from here.”  The paladin stood, nodded at her and headed towards the door. Apsara was suddenly glad he couldn’t see the bright blush on her cheeks caused by his casual use of her nickname. “Kremor! Come here with that food!” he called into the hallway as he opened the door.

Brushing her fingers against her chin briefly, Apsara smiled to herself. She was still smelling the lingering scent of leather and ash long after Baile had exited the room and Kremor had taken his place, the tray almost buckling under the weight of the food he had plundered from the kitchens.

* * *

 

The first few days Apsara wandered the fortress, her strength returning in spurts now. She also visited the hot springs hidden in a cave behind the fortress to soothe and heal her sore muscles, and watched Baile and Nayanna spar furiously – to the great entertainment of the Frostwolf clan warriors. Watching the two cross swords amazed her every time, and for a moment she wondered about the blood elves’ obsession with magic. Seeing the way both combatants moved was nothing short of a lethal, controlled dance. Baile refused to train her physically, but on the second evening came to her with a small, flat piece of polished alder wood – roughly rectangular in shape – that once flipped over was revealed to be a board for a game.

A grid made of nine horizontal and nine vertical lines had been painted onto the board. From a small cloth drawstring bag, Baile poured a small pile of round stones in two colors – black and white. The two had been seated at a small table on the side of the noisy common room, the board laid on the table between them.

“This game has very simple rules, Apsara,” he explained as he sorted the black and white stones into two piles. “It’s mostly about tactics, and about thinking ahead. A bit unusual way to train your tactical skills, but a good nonetheless.”

The paladin went on to demonstrate the way a player would place their stones on the intersections in the grid, and the way they could capture the opponent’s stones. The winner would be whoever captured the most territory, or surrounded their opponent’s stones in a turn-based manner. To Apsara, it seemed much like a simplified war table – only, her troops were smooth, black stones not much larger than her fingernail.

Placing four black stones in a square formation at equal distances from one another, and one in the center of the board, Baile nodded to himself. “Since you’ve no experience, you’re given extra stones to give you an edge over me,” he explained to the priestess, leaning on the table with his elbows. “I’ll be playing white, and you’ll be playing black.”

Deftly plucking a white stone between his index finger and middle finger, the paladin placed the first white stone – right next to one of the black stones already on the board. Apsara leaned forward, eyeing the board closer. She had a major advantage, she could already see that much. She picked up a black stone and placed it between two black stones already placed on the board. The bandages had been removed from her hands, revealing pinkish scar tissue that was slowly on the mend.

She examined Baile’s features as he bent over the board to consider his next move. The strong lines of worry that had been present on his forehead were gone. It looked like the paladin was at ease, much like he was at home on a battleground. Seeing him like this warmed Apsara’s heart – he seemed much more carefree after their conversation, even though she suspected he still carried some fears with him. Baile glanced up and caught her staring. He simply smiled at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

As the night went on, Apsara was easily defeated by Baile, despite her obvious advantage, time after time. It was only during the 6th game that she came close to winning, but had her victory snatched up from in front of her nose.  

“You learn fast,” Baile laughed as he scooped up the stones to tuck them back in the drawstring bag.

Apsara smiled back at him. She found that she enjoyed this game that in all its simplicity to learn was actually quite difficult to master. “Still ways away from defeating you!” she protested, faking a pout. Baile smirked at her.

“You’ll get there. I can see that already,” he commented. Picking up the board and tucking it under his arm, he bowed slightly.  “Well played. I’ll return this to Kremor before he thinks I’ve burned the thing.”

She watched him leave the common room, dodging a drunken orc with ease. Small twinge of disappointment surprised the priestess when she saw him round a corner and disappear from sight. Stretching her sore back and yawning, she decided to head out as well. After being deemed well enough to move about by herself, Apsara had moved into a shared room with Baile – one of the smaller guest rooms connecting to a side hallway of the fortress. Some of those rooms were used as storage, but lucky for Baile and Apsara, one room had been furnished with two decent beds and a half-collapsed armoire. Kremor had welcomed them to stay as long as they preferred, and the two had thanked him profusely for his hospitality.

As she laid down to sleep that night, exhausted from their board game, she found herself wondering what the future would bring. Faint moonlight shining through the window illuminated the specks of dust hovering in the air. Apsara pulled the covers over herself, trying to get comfortable in the darkness.

The priestess would have lied to herself if she claimed that the moment they shared in the infirmary hadn’t changed the relationship between her and Baile. A subtle tension hung in the air whenever she caught him looking at her for a moment too long. Their eyes would meet, they would share a small smile, and all of a sudden her knees would grow weak. Never did Apsara feel awkward – Baile kept a respectful distance at all times, to her growing frustration. Yet, the pull between the two was ever present. Kremor eyed the elves and shook his head often, muttering under his breath with an amused expression. Without being able to deny her own thoughts and feelings anymore, Apsara hesitantly admitted to herself that she had strong feelings for the aloof and proud paladin.

_How does he feel about me?_ She wondered, sighing into the quiet of the room. _Would he think I’m ridiculous? Would I even dare ask him?_

Apsara tried to ignore the nagging, rational part in her mind reminding her of the fact that her mother would not approve. Slowly she realized that she had become tired of performing to expectations, and she wanted to finally live her life, free of exhausting step-by-step plans made by someone else. Her nervousness about Baile and the worry about her mother wound themselves into a clump of anxiety in her gut until she dispelled it by forcefully focusing on her current situation instead of the what-ifs she pictured in her head.

They had a few more days until they would have to leave – she should concentrate on her training until then.


	10. Chapter 10

Bright, white morning light filtered through the narrow window of their shared room. Apsara blinked against the brightness as she lay on her back, allowing herself to slowly drift awake.

Turning her head, Apsara saw an empty bed across the small room, as she expected. Whenever Baile wasn’t training her in board game matches or quizzing her about tactics, he’d taken to training with the Frostwolves, both on foot and mounted on one of the huge, black war wolves the orcs favored as steeds. Occasionally he would join a mounted patrol that roamed the roads between the Fortress and the Coldtooth Mines to the north, leaving Apsara to help heal the soldiers with minor injuries left over from skirmishes with the Alliance weeks before, mostly small cuts and bruising. She bordered between acceptance and frustration at the way Baile seemed hell-bent on avoiding her whenever he could. The paladin would sneak in after she’d fallen asleep and leave again before she would wake up.

What did I expect? Apsara sighed and pushed herself up. She had most likely crossed a line with the hug she’d given him. Possibly made him uncomfortable. Embarrassed, even.

As she sat up, her attention was drawn to something peeking out from under Baile’s pillow. The corner of a leather-bound journal was not as carefully hidden as the rest of it had been. Apsara stared at it, curiosity flickering in the back of her mind like a moth drawn to a flame.

_I should not even be considering this._

She resolutely stood up, bare feet against the cold stone, and turned her gaze away as she tried to ignore the journal. Humming to herself, she pulled out a hairbrush and a fresh robe from her bag. Carefully brushing her long hair and freeing it of tangles, she ran through the motions of something that had quickly become a routine. Fastening the clasps in the front of the long vest she wore above her plain grey robe, she couldn’t help but glance at the journal again.

Apsara had seen Baile bent over the book with a compact quill in hand, writing with an unreadable expression on his face. Those pages contained words penned by the paladin himself. Possibly about who he was, where he had been, and what he thought on a daily basis. All the secrets that Apsara hadn’t been able to coax out of the secretive Baile. Apsara absent-mindedly looped the string keeping her enchanted lace bracelet secure into a knot and tugged it tight. She should head out and forget about having seen the journal. No excuse would be good enough for her to intrude on Baile’s privacy.

_Ignore the journal. Ignore the journal. Ignore the journal_.

Repeating the phrase in her mind like a mantra, Apsara pulled her hair back and with practiced movements clicked her hair ornament into place, tying her hair back neatly. Tugging on her boots, she had all the intention of simply leaving the room without looking back.

She took a step towards the door and hesitated. Apsara half turned, glancing over her shoulder. A loud knock almost made her jump out of her boots.

“Apsara? Are you awake?” Baile’s voice called out on the other side of the door.

Trying to calm down the panicked drumming of her heart, Apsara whirled back towards the door and smoothed down the front of her robe. “Yes – I… yes. Come on in.”

Baile pushed the door open and stepped into the room. He was not wearing his armor and had donned on his usual tall, fitted boots, leather breeches and a dark grey shirt.

At the sight of him, Apsara’s heart skipped a beat and suddenly, she felt weak in her knees. She neatly folded her hands in front of her to stop her hands from visibly shaking. With a steadying breath, she smiled at Baile who seemed to be either ignoring – or oblivious to – her agitation.

“Ready for some combat training?”

Not quite trusting her voice at that moment, Apsara simply nodded.

“Good. Meet me in the training hall – but only after you’ve changed out of your robe. I don’t want you to trip and destroy your shoulder for good.” Baile smiled grimly at that. “A long tunic, leggings and your boots should suffice.”

Apsara couldn’t help the fact that she was staring, now.

_The mere idea of training with him in leggings and tunic is..._

She sputtered for a moment, looking for words that wouldn’t come. Apsara could feel her face heat up, blush painfully obvious.  Baile was already turning and leaving the room as he called over his shoulder, “Trust me, Apsara. Your robe will only be in the way. Meet me in the training hall in 10 minutes.”  The door closed with a soft thud.

Apsara buried her face in her hands and sighed. This training session was going to be interesting.

* * *

Apsara stood on the stone tiles of the training hall, not sure if she should feel insulted or empowered. She tugged on the hem of her long tunic, pulling it lower in an attempt to cover her slender legs better with it. It didn’t work. The tips of her pointed ears, already pink and hot with embarrassment, flushed further. She felt naked without her robes.

The space itself was quiet at this hour, most Frostwolves currently out on patrols or just relaxing. Apsara was grateful for the lack of audience that she knew Baile’s training sessions usually gathered.

“Don’t fidget, Apsara. Put up your shield.” Baile smirked at her from several paces away. He held a heavy wooden sword one-handed with ease, the tip pointed down unthreateningly. On his other arm he had strapped a small round shield - a buckler.

“Easy for you to say…” Apsara mumbled quietly, unwilling to let go of her tunic in fear of the hem simply being lifted way beyond what was proper and polite. Even if it was for the sake of training – and she’d seen orc women train more revealing clothing – she felt horribly exposed. It’s because you need to be able to move, she told herself, and took a deep breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” She reluctantly unwrapped her fingers from around the tunic’s hem, letting the fabric settle against her thighs.

To Baile’s credit, Apsara never caught his gaze wandering down past the tunic that reached halfway down to her knees. The skin-tight leggings she wore were covering her skin – but the unfamiliar feeling of not wearing something flowing all the way to the her ankles made her anxious. He simply lifted his sword and shield, waiting for her.

Apsara slid her left foot forward, bending at the knee, and pivoting her right foot ever so slightly to point towards the side. As she raised her hands, palms forward, a golden shield winked into existence. The familiar hum of magic surrounded her.

“Now, then… We’re moving from defense-only to combined offense and defense,” Baile announced, his eyes narrowing. He lowered his stance, swaying on the balls of his feet. “You may attack with whichever type magic you prefer.”

“What - no! - Baile, you saw what I did to that spi…” Apsara stammered, her embarrassment forgotten. Without paying heed to her protests, the paladin was already advancing. He stalked closer in a slow, measured creep while Apsara was wrecking her brain for a way to convince Baile that letting her attack him would not be a good idea.

Shield leading, Baile charged.

All her thoughts flew out of the window as she braced the impact. The wooden buckler hit her magical shield, sending golden sparks flying out wide from the contact point. Baile’s eyes above the edge of the buckler were fierce as he pressed with all his weight against Apsara’s shield.

His sword came out from behind the shield in a flash. Apsara adjusted her shield accordingly, deflecting the mock weapon with ease. Baile sprung back, grinning at her. Apsara drew her hands back, holding them close to her chest in order to start casting an offensive spell. Her shield would start fading out on her own, but first she needed to gather enough magic for-

Baile sidestepped, swinging at her from the side. Apsara interrupted her spellcasting to reinforce the shield that had almost faded into nothingness. Baile’s sword hit her shield with a dull clang, pulled back and came back for a furious stab that shattered the magical aura. She was forced to tumble back to avoid the next thrust of the wooden weapon.

“Move, remember?” Baile called out, his breath coming harder now, shifting his stance to lift his shield. He prepared to ram at her with it.

The priestess growled in frustration. The dance between them felt so much like their board game matches – Baile was utterly dominating the play, pulling her every which way and seemingly enjoying every moment of it. He seemed to anticipate all of her movements and it was driving Apsara insane. Breaking out from her steady stance, Apsara began retreating from Baile as he advanced, keeping an equal distance at all times – just beyond the reach of his sword, even if he were to overbalance himself by charging forward. The paladin’s eyes twinkled in delight as he watched her watch him and especially his footwork.

“Good. Now, attack!” Baile lifted his shield.

Apsara bit her lip. Steeling her resolve, she backed up another step and then fell into spellcasting.

Calling upon the Light, Apsara flicked her wrists outwards. A streak of light hit Baile’s shield hard, sending him skidding backwards on the tiles. He simply laughed as he lowered the shield. The priestess suspected the shield had been enchanted to withstand magic, and for a moment she felt quite foolish for thinking she might actually hurt Baile.

“You can do much better, Apsara!”

At his provocation, Apsara grit her teeth and began casting again, sweat running down her temple. Simultaneously, Baile suddenly broke into a run. As Apsara finished her spell, Baile briefly raised his shield to receive the blow that slowed him only for a moment. Within several strides he was close enough to slice at her and Apsara was forced to back away, quickly conjuring another shield at the last second.

Baile bent low, throwing all of his considerable weight and muscle behind the tackle as he struggled against her shield. Making a split-second decision Apsara half jumped, half dove to the side, realizing her shield would not keep the paladin tossing her into the air like a ragdoll. As she finished her dodge, she was already casting another spell that hit the surprised Baile squarely in the side, sending him careening wildly as he tried to find his footing. As he finally regained his balance, he turned to face her again.

Both of them were out of breath now. Panting, the elves stared at each other until Baile burst into laughter. Apsara chuckled half-heartedly, adrenaline still keeping her on the edge of fight-or-flight response.

“Seems…. I need to make you angry… to get the best out of you, Apsara,” Baile noted as he caught his breath, lowering his sword.

Apsara laughed and shook her head. “I… I thought I was going to blast your shield… to kindling, to be honest.”

“Well fought. We’re done for now.”

Suddenly, someone at the entrance of the training hall started clapping. Baile and Apsara turned to look. Nayanna was leaning her back against the door, staring at the two sin’dorei with a smirk on her pale face. The scent of decay was strong in the air.

“Brilliant. You’re training the priestess to become some kind of a hybrid warrior?”

The paladin didn’t let her jab bother him. “Simply teaching the basics of what might save her life one day,” he answered coolly as he wandered to the weapon wall to put away his sword and shield.

Nayanna harrumphed and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, impatiently. “Well, you might get to use those skills. Today even. A cavalry unit was just sent out to answer to a possible raid on Tower Point.”

Baile turned towards the warrior, his posture projecting alertness. Apsara’s eyes were now locked on the Forsaken, realizing just how close by the Alliance must be for a unit to be sent out from the base of operations.

“Kremor is with them, and he asked me to find and bring you both to help repel the pests. Rumors are that the Alliance brought one of their dwarven lieutenants.”

“When are we expected?” The paladin asked, his voice low. Having dropped off his mock weapon and shield by the wall, he moved to stand next to Apsara.

Nayanna grinned, her eerie glow of her eyes intensifying. “Immediately.”

“We’d better comply then,” Baile muttered darkly. “Come, Apsara. I need my sword and armor… and you need your robes, at the very least.”

“Meet you outside. I will have mounts prepared for the both of you.”

Slipping out of the training hall door, the elves set out at a brisk walk towards their room, Baile looking grim. For a while they walked in silence.

“You don’t like the fact that they want me there, do you?” Apsara found herself asking as they walked.

The paladin shook his head. “I will give you this much; you’ve improved much since our first training session… but I’ll be damned if I’m ever happy to see you face danger such as this.”

“Why?”

Baile opened his mouth to say something, then decided against it. Rounding a corner, he marched on towards the part of the fortress their room was in. “Be sure to grab the belt pouches you need,” he said instead, refusing to meet her eyes.

Feeling defiant in that moment, Apsara grabbed Baile’s wrist as she came to a sudden halt. “You wanted to say something. Then say it, damn it!”

Exhaling sharply, the paladin finally locked his gaze with hers.

“Because you are too important.” He paused, the strict line of his eyebrows softening, and finally added, “To me.”

Apsara found herself frozen in that moment, unable to formulate a response. Pulling his wrist from her suddenly loose grasp, the paladin turned and continued walking briskly down the hallway.

* * *

 

Half-melted snow was sent flying on all sides as Baile, Apsara and Nayanna galloped northward, mounted on massive, armored wolves through the evergreen forest. Sun shone from a cloudless sky, sunlight reflecting in brilliant colors off the glittering snow and casting blue shadows across the melting masses of white. Soon the trio joined a column of riders also heading towards Tower Point, and they fell into disciplined formation, riding as pairs side by side. The wolves snarled and snapped at each other, but didn’t break the line.

Apsara leaned over the neck of her wolf mount, holding onto fistfuls of coarse black fur and trying to ignore the odd looks Nayanna was giving her and Baile as they rode side by side. The priestess tried to push down her swirling thoughts and only focus on the present. Despite the way her heart lurched in her chest and the butterflies in her stomach had seemed to go out of control the moment she remembered his words, her attention was needed here and now.

Apsara could see smoke in the distance between the trees, swirling skywards. As the icy road under them started snaking up towards the cliffs beyond the tree line, the riders broke away from the cover of the tall trees.

An errant fireball exploded in the air above the structure perching just beyond her line of sight behind the crest of the hill.

_They have at least one mage_ , she found herself thinking. Apsara could hear yells, roars, growls, hissing of powerful magic and general tumult of battle. A cold shiver ran down her back and she gritted her teeth to stop them from chattering.

Riders all around her sounded a battle cry and urged their mounts onwards harder. The priestess clung on for dear life as they near-skidded into a canyon that would lead them up to the hill where Iceblood Tower was located. Straightening in her saddle to survey the scenery better, Apsara saw one tower to the northeast almost entirely engulfed by flame. This tower was lost, but one more still stood.

The canyon flattened out to a plateau where a battle was on in full. The forces of the Alliance, a swarm of combatants that blurred into an unrecognizable mass in front of terrified Apsara’s eyes, were driving the defending Frostwolves back. The mounted forces broke formation, charging into the enemy soldiers with a crash that made the frozen earth beneath Apsara’s mount shudder.

Baile turned away from the main crowd, using his mount to guide Apsara’s wolf towards the tower that still stood. Defenders within the tower had climbed to the top and were now attacking the invaders with arrows and magic both. As Baile’s mount stopped, he nimbly jumped off and hurried to help Apsara down. The wolves, thus freed of their riders, joined the melee. One great wolf pounced on a nearby dwarf, toppling him and ripping at his armor with his claws. Apsara turned her head away, trying to not look at the spray of blood as the wolf finally sank his fangs into the dwarf’s neck. Her legs felt wobbly and she wondered if she would faint then and there.

“Listen to me, Apsara,” Baile told her as he squeezed her shoulders, hard, his eyes visibly intense from the slits in the helmet he had put on before they left the fortress. His booming, powerful voice easily carried over the din around them. “You will help the injured within the tower. Do not take unnecessary risks. Do you understand?”

Apsara nodded and turned on her heels, sprinting for the relative safety of the tower. Running past the two hulking guards posted at the door, she arrived in a large, circular room that wrapped around the central base of the tower. Despite the fact that they were indoors, Apsara felt cold – the stone walls around them didn’t quite keep the chill out, and her breath puffed out in white clouds. Along the walls, orcs were slumping against crates or each other for support. A single dark-colored male tauren, dressed in green-tinted leathers, was crouched near an orc laying on his back on the floor. Even crouched as he was, the tauren easily towered over the dainty priestess, the great sweep of his horns making him even more imposing. Magic that smelled like rain and wild flowers poured from his large hands as he tried to suppress the flow of blood from the orc’s hip.

Rushing to the tauren, Apsara kneeled by the orc and resisted an urge to gasp. Something had ripped straight through the orc’s armor, crushing most of his hip and leaving a large, strongly bleeding gash along his side. The orc’s green skin had gone pale, and his eyes were firmly closed against the pain.  
“I’ll make him comfortable before the inevitable. Go to the next one,” the tauren said quietly in a low, somber voice, glancing at her.

Bile rose in her throat. Pragmatism kicked in; if she were to use all her magic on healing this one, the rest would not get a fighting chance. Tears rose to her eyes and she nodded, refusing to let them fall as she stumbled to the next patient in line – a purple-haired, blue-skinned troll, sitting on a crate, staring at her dying friend with an empty look in her eyes.

Quickly examining the troll while holding back her tears, Apsara quickly spotted the broken wrist she cradled. Ever so gently she laid her hand on the troll’s, letting the healing magic flow free.

“I’m so sorry,” Apsara whispered, almost choking on her words and not quite sure what she was apologizing for. The troll did not react even when she carefully lifted her arm to let the healing spell set the bones. With a painful-sounding snap, the wrist finished healing.

Outside, the fighting continued. Every so often an explosion would rock the tower to its foundation, making the mostly sturdy building sway slightly. Apsara thought she heard Baile’s voice over it all - a shock, like an electric current, ran up her back and her instincts screamed at her to run outside - as she moved to healing the wound on the troll’s leg. As soon as she was done, the troll’s face became a mask of rage and she grabbed for her weapon, a two-handed axe. Before Apsara could ask her if she was feeling better, her patient stood up and brushed past her to rejoin the fray.

And so it continued, one grievously injured patient after another. Tirelessly and selflessly, Apsara poured every single bit of magic she had into the wounded in the freezing tower. Ignoring the sounds of battle and the aching worry in her heart, she focused solely on the needs of the people around her even as she could barely feel her fingers anymore.

The continuous use of her magic was tiring Apsara out. Trying to ignore the weakness in her legs and the dizziness that was making it hard for her to walk straight, she pushed herself to the limit. Dark spots danced in her vision as she finished healing yet another fighter. Only at the gentle touch of the tauren druid at her elbow did she realize that the sounds from outside were fading, and she had healed the last wounded combatant – for now.

A long, clear note of a horn in the distance called the retreat of the Alliance.

Apsara slumped down on the rough floor, trying in vain to wipe off the blood from her hands. Looking out through the doorway for the first time since she’d been ushered in, she saw corpses - both of Horde and Alliance fighters - littering the ground that had turned from white to red. The smell of fire, ash, sweat and blood were overpowering. The priestess bit back a sniffle. The patients who Apsara and the druid had healed had long since left the tower, leaving the healers alone with the bodies of the ones they could not save.

The druid wrapped a blanket around her shoulders - where he had gotten it, Apsara had no idea - and sat down next to her. The two exhausted healers sat there for a long time in silence, listening to distant victory hoots. Too tired to even cry at the uselessness of it all, Apsara gave up her futile attempts at cleaning her hands and simply sat there, pulling the blanket tighter around herself in an effort to stave off the cold. It felt as if she was cold to her bones, and all she wanted to do was to curl up and sleep.

Finally, the tauren spoke. “Rest here. I’ll go see if I can find us wolves to ride.” He heaved himself up clumsily, his hooves scraping against the uneven stone floor. Swaying on his legs, the druid exited the tower into the bright sunlight outside. His dark grey fur and mane were matted with blood; his own or his patients’, Apsara did not know. Trying to resist the siren song of sleep, Apsara fought with all her might to stand up. They might still need her; what if Baile had been injured and she would be entirely depleted of all her magic or worse, unconscious? Her strength failed her and she tumbled backwards, ending up on her backside again.

“Look at yourself. Too weak to even stand,” she hoarsely whispered to herself.

A scraping sound from just outside the doorway made her ears perk up. The druid must have come back with her ride back to Frostwolf Fortress. She could really use a bath in the hot springs and long, uninterrupted sleep.

Only, nobody turned up in the door opening. A shadow briefly blocked the sun, and as soon as it was gone, the priestess realized something was wrong. The sense of alarm hit Apsara’s tired brain like a hammer. Listening closely, she heard nothing more than distant yells and the wind whistling.  But someone was in the tower with her. She could feel herself being watched. The way the hairs at the back of her neck stood up convinced her she was in danger.

Should she shield herself? Should she try to call for help? How had the intruder sneaked past the lines of Frostwolves?

Forcing herself to stay calm, she pretended like she had heard something and then had dismissed it as a figment of her imagination. Discreetly she shifted the blanket around her shoulders, hand inching closer to the specific bag she had put her wand away in. If she was lucky, she would get at least one shot of arcane energy off, and then be able to stumble out of the tower to find someone who could help her. As she was now, she had almost no reserves for casting magic. Maybe a shield and an offensive spell – that was all, and she would surely collapse afterwards. 

Making a show of letting her eyes droop closed, she tuned to her other senses and listened intently. Adrenaline forced her to focus over the sound of blood rushing in her veins. The softest hiss of a boot against the rough stone flooring sounded somewhere to her right. Her breath almost hitched in her throat at the realization she had indeed not imagined things.

As something cold and sharp slowly pressed against her neck, she understood she had made a grave mistake.

It wasn’t a singular intruder. It was two.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late cross-post - I've been busy with life. The latest chapters appear a bit faster on fanfiction.net but I will keep on adding them here too. ;)

As soon as the initial shock of having a dagger against her throat passed, Apsara realized she needed a plan. Her hand, hovering by her wand poach, trembled.

Instead of giving in to the fear and fatigue, she forced herself to take slow, steady breaths. As she swallowed, she keenly felt the sharp edge of the blade pressed firmly against her throat. Panic bubbled up in her chest and she fought to push it down. A bead of sweat, rapidly cooling in the chilly air, trickled down her temple.

A softly spoken command, laced with magic, captured Apsara’s attention.

The second intruder’s invisibility faded, revealing a robe-clad human sorceress. Her layered robes, dark purple with lavish white embroideries partially unraveled, rustled against the ground as she kneeled to rummage through a crate as she was clearly looking for something. Apsara could feel the person behind her turn their head towards the door. A low, rumbling voice from behind Apsara barked a quiet command at the human going through the contents of the crate, carelessly shoving aside bandages and potions. 

Looters, then. Expected there to be nobody here. The one behind me a man. The woman there… looks like a mage. 

Trying not to move and startle the person behind her, she started thinking of a plan. Her initial problem was, of course, the dagger at her throat. She could be sure that if she so much as made a sound or shifted, he’d drive the blade home.

Why haven’t they killed me yet?

Following the human from the corner of her eye, she could see why. The human seemed beaten and battered, probably as tired as Apsara was. Her robe was frayed and torn in places, and walked with a slight limp from one crate to the next, trying to avoid Apsara’s gaze. Apsara could only assume the rogue behind her to be in a similar state. 

She isn’t happy about doing things this way. Her companion… he doesn’t want unnecessary bloodshed, either.

Sympathy bloomed in Apsara’s chest despite her situation. Inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth, she tried to wrack her brain for a way for her to escape. She needed to free herself of the first intruder’s grasp, stun him in some way, and dodge the magic surely following hot on her heels… only if she could manage that, she could make it out of the tower and find someone to help her. 

Her chances were slim but she couldn’t let that stop her.

The mage glanced at her comrade and nodded towards Apsara. She spoke in a quiet, scared tone as she crouched by yet another crate, wrestling open the lid. Apsara could feel the night elf behind her hook his fingers around the edge of the blanket at her neck with his free hand and begin pulling it free. They wanted to tie her up, she assumed.  
She had no time to lose. Gritting her teeth, Apsara grabbed her wand and tilted it upwards, aiming for his elbow. With flick of her wrist, the arcane blast from her wand shot through the blanket. His arm was knocked wide and the dagger grazed the side of her neck as he jumped back, startled. Ignoring the blood seeping down her neck Apsara bolted towards the door, the blanket falling off her shoulders. With all her might she was calling a protective shield as she stumbled away from her assailant. A second later a fireball crashed into the magical protection and blinded everyone in the tower as it exploded. The force of explosion shook the tower and shattered her shield into a shower of golden sparks.

The night elf was knocked back from the mage’s fireball and his elbow bled profusely where Apsara’s wand had torn a long stripe of his leather armor and skin off. He recovered quickly, rolling onto his feet and lunging after Apsara. In order to stop her from running outside and screaming for help, he grabbed the first thing he could reach – a handful of her long hair – and pulled back, hard.

A sharp, burning pain ran across her scalp. Apsara was slung back too fast for her to even react. Her balance lost, she tumbled backwards. Her boots slipped on the cold stone flooring and she was sure she’d fall. In one, deft motion the tall night elf used his body to ram her against the central pillar of the tower as pried the wand from her hand and again raised his dagger to her throat. Sweat raced down his lavender skin and matted his long, white hair to his angular face, looming at her from above.

He growled at her and sputtered an angry litany of words in a language Apsara couldn’t understand. His tone was frustrated, laced with regret. In his white, glowing eyes Apsara could see resignation as he braced against her, the blade digging into her skin. 

From the corner of her eye Apsara saw a flash of silver before someone charged right into the rogue. Baile sent the night elf sprawling back with a deep red slash across his side, continuing to his chest. The rogue thudded heavily on the floor.

The sorceress, most likely out of her magic, had brought out a small stiletto she brandished in a shaking hand. Seeing Baile and his bloodied sword above her friend, she backed away slowly.

Baile half-turned to regard Apsara.

His gaze took in the extent of her injuries. As his eyes stopped at her bleeding neck, his expression changed.

He pulled himself to his full height and raised his sword ever so slightly, reversing his grip above the bleeding, gasping night elf with one deft flick of his wrist. The sharp tip of his sword hovered over the rogue’s chest. Baile’s lips were drawn back as he turned to regard the night elf, his teeth glinting in the gloom of the tower. The absolute rage in his narrowed eyes made the human sorceress in the corner cower deeper behind a crate.

“Ash-adore anu dalah’surfal.”

The string of syllables Baile mouthed rang odd in her ears, and it took Apsara several heartbeats to realize he was not speaking Orcish or even Thalassian.

The night elf on the floor whimpered.

With brutal force and efficiency, Baile suddenly plunged the point of his sword between the thief’s ribs, straight through his heart. The night elf jerked, then lay still. A growing pool of blood sneaked its way across the floor, seeping under the paladin’s boots. Apsara watched on helplessly, her breath coming in short gasps. 

Baile pulled his sword back with a deliberate slowness and casually wiped the bloodied blade on his victim’s leather jerkin. Next, he turned his attention to the woman across the room. His grimace was replaced by a cruel smile that made Apsara’s mind go blank. He spoke again with a low growl, foreign language rolling smoothly from his tongue.

The human started pleading, her melodious voice quivering. Her quiet begging became louder as Baile began walking towards her. Apsara, too shocked to move or speak, watched the paladin slowly walk forward. He passed her by close enough to touch without looking at her. Baile’s cold eyes were locked onto the sorceress.

“Apsara! Baile!”

The sound of Kremor’s yell and the thudding of paws on icy ground halted Baile’s advancement. He let the tip of his sword dip. 

Nayanna burst through the doorway first, followed closely by Kremor. Both of them froze, taking in the scene – Baile, whose posture projected enraged fury, the dead night elf on the floor, Apsara with her back pressed against the central pillar, and finally, the half-hidden human at the back of the room. Her passionate pleas quieted to almost inaudible sobs.

Finally finding her voice, Apsara forced herself to speak. She wasn’t sure who she was talking to more; Baile or their friends standing near the doorway. “We’re fine.” She tried to keep her voice from quivering and failed, the last few words barely getting through her constricted throat. “Everything is fine.“

For a moment Apsara expected Baile to lash out, until his shoulders relaxed and his rigid posture shifted. As he turned his face towards Apsara, his expression was carefully neutral, his cruel grin gone. He gave a short nod. Wordlessly, Nayanna walked to the priestess and, slipping an arm around her waist to support her, started to lead her outside. 

That’s when the human sorceress stood up and almost knocked over a crate in her hurry. The purple glow around her hands, previously hidden, now shot out towards the quartet. 

Apsara heard an alarmed growl and a chirp from outside the tower. A large, swirling portal opened just behind Kremor, directly in the doorway to the tower. Nayanna whirled, trying to protect Apsara with her body against whatever would come next. Baile pivoted, raising his sword. Kremor grunted, falling into spellcasting of his own. 

With another spell - this time in the form of a strong, icy gust of wind - the human pushed them in one heap through the portal.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For a moment, all Baile knew was a swirl of sounds and colors as the icy wind flipped him off his feet and unceremoniously thrust him through the portal. The air escaped his lungs in a forceful whoosh as he exited the portal and landed heavily on his back. Stars danced in his vision as he fought to breathe and see again.

Blindly scrambling, the paladin rolled to his stomach and tried to stand up only to almost stumble back down on the ground that shifted underneath him. He stared at the hot ground under his palms.

Fine-grained, yellow and white sand filtered between his gauntleted fingers. 

Baile finally pushed himself up, careful to not lose his balance on the shifting sand, and looked around. Endless sand dunes stretched as far as eye could see. The heat of the sun boring down on them from a cloudless sky registered in his mind.

They’d been tossed through a portal to a desert. 

Nayanna and Kremor had ended up landing in a pile and were untangling themselves, a steady stream of noisy curse words being spat by the warrior. Some paces away from Baile, Apsara sat on her backside staring at their environment in bewilderment. Half-sliding, half-running, the paladin made his way to the dazed priestess.

“Are you alright?” He offered Apsara his hand and after the slightest hesitation, she took it. Sand ran down in rivulets down her torn and bloodied robe as she stood up wearily and the two looked at each other. With his other hand, Baile gently cupped her chin to examine the cut on her throat. The shallow wound had stopped bleeding, crimson blood drying on her smooth skin. Baile wanted to sigh in relief until he looked into her eyes.

Something about the startled, almost fearful glance the priestess gave him was nearly enough for him to break down and explain everything. Her reserved posture reminded him that he had stepped far outside the role he had chosen for himself. What had happened in the tower had brought him back to a time long past and unlocked a very dangerous part of him. Nothing would suppress it now. He severely doubted Apsara would like seeing him this way. 

This is why you’re not officially a paladin anymore. Regret and longing settled at the bottom of his gut. Haven’t been for a very long time. 

A sad smile came to his lips as he reluctantly let her hand go.

“I’m… fine,” she answered, finally. Seeing his sad expression she stepped closer and reached out for him. 

Her hand gently rested just above his heart, ever so slightly pressing against the unbending plate armor. A golden glow, soothing and cooling in the scorching heat of the desert, spread from the contact point. Thin tendrils of light seeped between the creases of his armor, healing his injuries. Every single scrape and hurt he’d suffered during the battle of Tower Point was fading away, one by one. Hot gust of desert wind stirred her black hair, now partially loose from her hairclip, sending the strands dancing and mingling with his own silver hair.

“Apsara…” Baile warned. 

“Shh. You are hurt,” she chided quietly, her eyes closing. 

“Stop it, Apsara.” He laid his hand over hers, trying to force her to stop channeling her magic. “Save your magic. I’m not…”

Worthy, he finished weakly in his mind. 

The soothing glow faded and Apsara stepped back, opening her eyes and smiling up at him with her usual gentleness. “There. Better.” 

She swayed, and Baile hurried to support her. As it became evident that her legs wouldn’t carry her especially on this unsteady terrain, Baile swooped her up into his arms. The tiny blood elf was so light he barely noticed she was there.

The priestess struggled at first, but then settled into his arms. Her exhaustion was catching up with her – and she had not even healed herself. The generous, gentle priestess would, of course, always heal everyone else before herself. Baile wanted to shake her. He wanted to shout in her face. She needed to stop being so kind to him. He didn’t deserve it.

Turning around, Baile saw Nayanna and Kremor hurrying towards another dune. As he focused his attention outwards, he could hear them calling out. 

Who or what were they calling out to?

Carefully making his way through the sand, he followed the duo. As he made his way over the dune, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

A great raptor, fitted with a saddle, was struggling to free his head from a pile of sand. Kremor hurried to the creature to pull his tail (to the raptor’s great displeasure), and finally freed the raptor. The animal hissed and spat indignantly.

“Silly animal! Bird-brain! What made you charge in after us?” Kremor chided the panicked raptor half-heartedly while hugging him. 

Another great animal, this time one of the great war wolves of the Frostwolf clan, was sitting on top of another dune and was watching them. Now it was Nayanna’s turn to smile in delight as she made her way to the wolf. 

Against all odds, their ragtag group had somehow been brought from the cold, snow-filled valley of Alterac to… wherever this was. Hot wind sent grains of sand flying, stinging their eyes. 

“It appears we’re the only ones to have gotten through the portal,” Nayanna announced, having finished a quick scan of their immediate surroundings from the top of the dune. 

Kremor patted the neck of his raptor and looked up. “What do you see?” 

“Sand. Glowing hot sand in every direction as far as the eye can see,” Nayanna huffed resentfully. Her wolf, already panting in the late afternoon heat, whined pitifully.

Baile had to agree to her assessment. The endless golden dunes stretching beyond the horizon gave him little hope about surviving here for long. A bird, high above them, soared on the desert winds.

A pregnant silence fell between them. 

“There’s one thing left to do,” Kremor announced after a while. “We’ll be picking one direction and riding until we find a landmark or… SOMETHING in this damned desert.”

Soon, the quartet were astride their two mounts; Baile supporting the exhausted Apsara in front of him on the war wolf, and Nayanna riding behind Kremor plodding onwards on the large raptor. 

Turning their course towards they assumed was north, they rode on.

“So, any last wishes before the desert swallows us whole?” Nayanna asked half-seriously, in the way of making conversation. “Well, it’s going to eat you; me it will probably leave alone. ” Nayanna glared at the bird circling above them.

“Now now, it’s not all that bad,” Kremor snorted and waved one hand dismissively. “All we have to do is to figure out where we are.”

It was Nayanna’s turn to snort. “There aren’t any deserts like this in Eastern Kingdoms. We were tossed VERY far indeed.”

Kremor glanced over his shoulder at his passenger and arched an eyebrow. “I bet you know where we are, then?”

“It seems like someone never looked at a map in his life. This must be Tanaris, you dolt.”

The reasoning seemed sound to Baile and he sighed. At least they hadn’t been dropped into the sea far from the shore somewhere. 

“… Tanaris? Of all the places, that mage sent us to Tanaris?!” Kremor groaned, slumping in the saddle and almost sending Nayanna sliding back over the raptor’s sloping back. This caused the warrior to grab his midsection tighter. 

“That’s what I just said! Now sit properly!”

Baile fell into thought, gently shifting the priestess leaning against him. After they would find shelter and had recovered from all of this, Apsara could contact her mother with her portal-locket and she’d be as good as back in Silvermoon. Certainly one of the Elenn mages would come and pick her up. 

Apsara would be pulled into family politics. She’d be locked in the gilded cage the Elenns called living. Someone, maybe a perfect magister, would be matched with her, optimally chosen to produce the best offspring. Carefully groomed and prepared, she would eventually take over her mother’s position as the matron of the household like so many Elenn women before her.

Imagining the gentle, hardworking, genuine priestess forced into that kind of existence made him angry. 

Anger flared at the edge of his consciousness, tugging at the black rage that bubbled forth. Baile grit his teeth and willed his anger to subside. It remained just under the surface, simmering. 

To the west, sun was slowly making its descent and casting long shadows across the sand.


	12. Chapter 12

Apsara snapped awake, realizing she had drifted off. Opening her heavy-lidded eyes to see the darkening desert sky she found a field of stars winking into existence above her and her companions. Breathlessly she watched the river of light formed by individual bright pinpoints stretch across the skies. She ignored the aching of her back and neck and slowly tilted her chin upwards, sleepily marveling at the velvety smooth dark purples and blues of the sky before it would fade to black.  

She was sitting in front of Baile on the war wolf, she remembered. The exhaustion was still heavy in her bones as she shifted, trying to ease the ache in her lower back. The movement dislodged a thin sheet of fine-grained sand that had been forming in the folds of her bunched-up robe and sent it sliding down the fabric and into the ground. The hem was hitched high, almost to her hip, revealing the thin leggings she had trained in that morning.

 _Had it really been this morning?_ Apsara thought to herself tiredly as she stifled a yawn.

Baile’s arms surrounded her, gently keeping her in place while her back rested against his chest, the metallic edges of his armor chafing even through the layered fabric of her robes. Mentally shaking herself awake, Apsara straightened in the saddle and cast a final glance towards the skies.

Fine grains of sand kicked up by the occasional gusts of wind made her want to cough and she was almost certain that full handfuls of sand nested in her hair. Apsara noticed that the skin of her face felt tight and hot; she must’ve gotten sunburnt already. She would have given a lot for a bath as the first layer of her robes clung her body like a second skin. Rapidly cooling sweat made her cringe, but she resigned to tolerating the sensation as it was not likely she would be able to change into fresh robes anytime soon.

Off to her left, Kremor remarked in an exhausted voice, “Well, if I had to choose between this and the wide open desert for a place to sleep, I would choose this.” Nayanna murmured her grumpy assent, her words too quiet for the priestess to hear.

The gentle swaying of the war wolf’s rolling walk came to a halt. Apsara could feel Baile’s chest move behind her. A sigh stirred her hair.

“Very well. It’s not ideal to stay out in the wilderness, but we’ll have to rest sometime.”

The priestess peered through the gloom. The high dunes of the desert had turned  to mostly flat sandy terrain with the occasional scattered silhouettes of wind-worn rocks of varying sizes and tough, sinewy underbrush spotting the scenery. They’d stopped at a clearing, about 5 meters in diameter; surrounded on three sides by large boulders - the largest being as tall as Baile, and the smallest half that height - that formed something like a protective wall against the cold night wind.

Nayanna and Kremor promptly slid off their exhausted raptor, landing with thuds in the sand. Behind Apsara, Baile threw his leg over the back of the wolf and dismounted. He hissed quietly as his feet made contact with the sand and promptly stretched, his back cracking audibly. Before he could step up and help Apsara dismount, she grabbed a handful of the wolf’s black mane and slid down, with much less grace than the paladin. She landed heavily on her feet and the painful jolt traveling up her travel-weary, numb legs made her bite back a groan. Baile arched an eyebrow, barely visible in the darkness.

Truth be told, Apsara was done being put on a pedestal like a priceless jewel. Determination flared in her gut as she met Baile’s eyes and smiled. As long as they were out in the wilderness, she would need to learn to look out for herself – starting right now. She would have to cut Baile’s protective attempts short and carry her own weight.

To the side, Nayanna fussed with the great, green-and-black striped raptor. The warrior cooed at him as she pulled off the saddle and the bridle, trying to make the creature as comfortable as possible. Kremor did the same with the war wolf, undoing the clasp of the great spiked collar wrapped around his neck and opening the buckles of the saddle strap.

While the two were busy with their mounts, Baile motioned Apsara to follow him as he headed towards one of the boulders. Swiftly unhooking his magical satchels from his belt, he started rummaging through them.  With an irritated click of his tongue, he soon abandoned the effort and let his shoulders sag.

“I did not take the bag with our rations or tent in it,” he finally said in a flat tone, flicking the satchel lid shut. He reached to another bag and pulled out a water flask, giving it an experimental shake. From the sloshing sound, Apsara could discern less than half of the flask’s contents remained.

Quickly running her fingers through her belongings, the realization that she had also left the bag with her bedroll and her meager camping supplies behind made her wince. She had some clothes – more precisely, one more robe and a light cloak -, a small coin pouch, her magical locket as well as the jeweled crown she was to deliver, but little else. They were out in the desert of Tanaris with barely anything, days from civilization and possibly any kind of shelter from the unforgiving sun. Apsara bit her lip, anxiety slowly taking hold.

Something clattered to the sand in the empty space between the stones and a bright spark momentarily lit the night.

In front of Apsara’s surprised eyes Nayanna, whose eyes glowed a muted yellow in the darkness, flicked a burning bit of paper in the middle of the logs she had seemingly found in her magical bags and nursed the pitiful flame to a bright fire in the matter of minutes. Cool gusts of wind sent the flames dancing, sending long shadows snaking across the desert. Warm glow illuminated their campsite, revealing Kremor in the process of pulling out something that looked like dried meat and bread wrapped in a cloth from his bags and their mounts laying comfortably in the sand next to each other. The wolf and the raptor eyed the meat with glinting eyes.

“There’s plenty to go around... don’t look at me like you’re going to eat me!” Kremor admonished their mounts. The wolf turned his head away, glancing at Kremor from the corner of his eye. The raptor, however, kept on staring at him hungrily.

Apsara’s stomach growled loud enough for all of her companions to snap their faces towards her. After a moment, all of them burst to laughter, the sound echoing off the stones around them and escaping into the night. Blushing with embarrassment, Apsara laughed the hardest.

It had indeed been a while since she’d last eaten.

“I should be afraid of the little priestess eating me, then!” Kremor chortled while putting together sizeable sandwiches with what he pulled from his bags. The shaman had also brought several full water skins with him which he passed around. To the questioning looks he shrugged his shoulders and mumbled that he liked to be prepared. Nayanna glared at him, and he begrudgingly added that it had been the warrior’s idea to bring food.

The companions sat down around the campfire digging into the surprisingly tasty rations, Baile to Apsara’s right by a large rock and Kremor and Nayanna across from the duo. True to his word, Kremor had indeed had enough to fill up everyone, including their mounts. Apsara suspected that most of what the lively shaman had in his bags was food.

“So, assuming we’re in Tanaris, we might as well get an idea about our surroundings,” Kremor began as he ate, etching a rough map in the sand with his finger.

Apsara scooted closer, looking at the shape the shaman was drawing. Tanaris was surrounded by mountains in the north and in the west, and impassable hills blocked passage to the south. Kremor scribbled wave-like shapes in the east, and Apsara realized that the sea was on that side. A quiet part of her hoped that she would like to see the sea and the long, white beaches she had read about.

Pursing her lips, Nayanna joined in. With her thin, long-nailed fingers she drew a circle with several boxes on it, located in the northeast portion of the map, fairly close to the mountains. She added hills to the east, between the inland sand dunes and the sea and tilted her head to appraise the map with a critical eye.

“I’m guessing we’re somewhere here.” Kremor poked a finger accusingly in the middle of their map. “Happy we didn’t end up in the sea, but… this is not a great place to be. Especially not when we’re not prepared.”

Next to Apsara, Baile nodded as he examined the map, his narrowed eyes unreadable. “There should also be several tribes of ogres in these parts. We’d better avoid them,” the paladin added, taking another bite out of his sandwich.

Nayanna, Kremor and Baile began planning a route through the dunes, every now and then glancing at the skies and arguing about the location of the stars. The quartet was to travel north, make a stop at Gadgetzan and after restocking their supplies ride into Thousand Needles and further to The Barrens, hopefully arriving without incident in Orgrimmar. Apsara fell into thought as she listened, knowing most locations by name only. What she did know is that traveling in a desert such as Tanaris without taking precautions would be dangerous. If they were to travel all day, they would not only need water, but they would also need protection from the sun. But what could they use?

She glanced around. Baile, having taken off his gauntlets, helmet and stripped himself of as much armor as possible, was walking around in a stained shirt and black pants. Kremor wore his long kilt and vest, which would be burning him up once the temperatures rose.

As for Nayanna…

Apsara wasn’t quite sure whether Forsaken were bothered by heat, or even the unavoidable grains of sand that would wind up in her heavy armor and all over her face.

The priestess chewed on her lip as she pondered. Most of her companions would need something to protect their eyes from the sands somehow… and then Apsara realized that she might just have the thing.

Eagerly, she opened her clothing bag and looked at her remaining unused robe, neatly folded in her bag – an ornate priestess robe in her house’s colors usually reserved for festive occasions; a regalia consisting of a bottom robe woven from lightweight cotton dyed a deep teal with light gold accents, over which she’d usually drape a long, lighter teal-with-white vest with flowing, pure white sleeves and beautifully embroidered golden details over the chest and up to her shoulders. An optional accessory, a belt of golden loops with small, sparkling topazes would top off the ensemble when worn, but Apsara had another idea.

She could only hope her mother would understand why she ripped her most beautiful – and by far the most expensive - robe.

As she pulled the robe out of her bag, her companions fell silent to stare at her. Baile swallowed, his eyes roaming the folded robe with a mixture of … horror and fascination?

“We’ll be badly sunburnt by the time we reach Gadgetzan if we don’t protect ourselves, right?” Apsara asked, unfolding the robe. “I think we can fashion some sort of head protection, at least, from this.”

Her companions eyed the robe, eyes wide at the intricate embroidery and at her apparent willingness to destroy something that looked so expensive. Nayanna and Kremor began nodding appreciatively. Baile remained still, staring at the robe. As soon as he noticed that she saw his long stare, he tore his eyes from the garment, finishing his dinner in silence.

“That’s a good idea, Apsara,” Kremor admitted as he stood up and wandered to the priestess. “I know a thing or two about working with leather so I should be some kind of help with figuring out the best way of using this.”

Together, Apsara and Kremor cut the cloth into strips and fashioned headwraps from the bottom robe and simple veils from the sheer vest to protect their eyes. Despite being Forsaken and not, strictly speaking, vulnerable to the elements in the way she had been when she was alive, Nayanna accepted the meager protective measures gratefully.

As soon as they were done with their dinner, Nayanna stood up and announced she would take the first watch. Without further ado, she stomped off into the darkness just beyond the reach of their campfire’s light. Across the campfire from Baile and Apsara, Kremor laid on his back, his arms folded under his head as he rested. Baile folded his legs and began caring for his sword, working on removing the blood stains from the metal.

Apsara watched the surly Forsaken disappear into the darkness. Before the priestess could settle down for the evening, though, she would have to do something about her blood-soaked sleeves. It was good the blood had long since dried, but it seemed like it would have been entirely possible for the smell to attract predators, and the last thing that she wanted was having their camp attacked by hungry desert animals.

With a small sigh, she surveyed the state of her current robe.

The bloodstains on her robe were mostly down on her sleeves. There was no point in trying to wash the blood off – it had soaked through the fabric and crusted over. Apsara wrinkled her nose and set to cutting the sleeves off at her elbow with a small dagger, leaving her forearms bare to the elements.

 _It will just have to do_ , she thought grimly as she finished and discarded the stained pieces of cloth.

Silence returned – except for Kremor’s increasing snoring across the campfire - and Apsara leaned backwards, settling against the smooth edge of the rock behind her. She looked up at the stars, now even more numerous up in the dark night sky.

She touched her throat gingerly with the tips of her fingers. The edges of the shallow wound were raw and stung at the gentle touch. She winced. By the feel of it the cut was mending, but she had entirely forgotten about it until now. A simple spell Apsara evoked closed the wound and purified it, preventing infection.

For now, she felt safe and content. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she would be just fine if she would work together with Baile, Kremor and Nayanna. She would have to live a day at a time, and contact her mother with her magical locket as soon as they were back to civilization to explain the lengthy break in communication. Sathira would be furious, of course, but from Gadgetzan it wouldn’t take too long for them to reach Orgrimmar – and from there she would be able to board a zeppelin to Undercity. From there on it was practically a hop away to Silvermoon.

Apsara lowered her gaze from the stars, looking at Baile. The warm light of the fire danced on his sharp features. Her eyes roamed his profile, sweeping past the sharp ridge of his nose down to his lips that were tightened in a concentrated line. Baile ran a cloth down his sword with practiced movements, carefully wiping off grime and dust until the blade shone in the meager light.

“I realize I promised to teach you about the stars,” Baile remarked quietly as he held his sword up, examining the blade in the light of the campfire. “and I apologize I haven’t really gotten around to it, Apsara.”

“There hasn’t really been an occasion to do that, Baile,” Apsara replied, barely suppressing an unladylike snort.  She clapped a hand on her mouth.

Baile’s long, pointed ears twitched. He glanced at her sideways, his focus slowly shifting from his blade to her. The corners of his lips were pulled up in a sneaky grin as he regarded her.

“You’ve changed. Wonder if your mother will recognize you once you get back,” he noted, seeming entirely too smug about it. For a moment, his grin faltered. “And I will bring you back. You have my word.”

With a wave of her hand, Apsara dismissed the worried promise. “I was never afraid you wouldn’t.”

Baile watched her under his eyebrows. The priestess realized he was expecting her to elaborate.

“I don’t want to feel like dead weight. That is why I’d like you to stop thinking of me as someone you need to guard and start thinking of me as someone who is your equal. Your companion.” The words spilled from her lips before she could stop or even consider how she wanted to say it. At them, Baile’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I realize this is most likely the worst time for me to ask this, but… I want to be someone you can trust.“

Apsara folded her hands in her lap, trying not to wring them. For a moment she wanted to apologize and to ask Baile to forget what she’d said, but determination and curiosity took hold of her.

The silver-haired paladin laid his sword gently on the sand. The neatly folded cleaning cloth followed and Baile leaned back, his grin fading further.

“I want you to be able to trust me enough to tell me what happened in the tower and why,” Apsara finished, suddenly out of breath.

Avoiding her gaze, Baile rested his hands on his knees.  His eyes were dark as he cleared his throat, trying to find words to explain his thoughts. “He nearly killed you, Apsara. I reacted on instinct.”

The priestess shook her head slowly. “It’s more than that.”

The tall blood elf’s shoulders stiffened, a crack in his smooth, steady facade. Slowly and carefully Apsara laid her small hand atop his, briefly brushing her fingertips across his knuckles. The contact of warm skin finally encouraged him to turn his gaze to meet hers. His eyes, sharp and cold even in the warm light of the fire, looked back at her, evaluating her.

“It’s about time you tell me the truth, Baile. “

A deep sigh escaped the tall elf, his grim expression softening. Without pressuring him, Apsara simply smiled and waited patiently, watching the wary posture of her bodyguard. If there had been something Apsara had learned during her studies as a priestess, it had been that sometimes silence encouraged people to talk better than any words would.

Those days felt like they had happened lifetimes ago, now.

“The truth?” Baile asked quietly, mulling the word over. His eyebrows furrowed, the only sign of an internal struggle for a moment before he continued. “I was told to not tell you the truth, Apsara. You would have eventually heard it from your mother. Possibly even the moment you came home – but I doubt I can keep you from the truth for any longer, and your mother will have to deal with that.” The slight joking tone died altogether too fast from his lips.

The slight shift in his stoic demeanor alerted Apsara to the gravity of what he was about to tell her.

“Despite what you might think, I'm more than a mercenary, Apsara,” Baile began quietly, picking each word with uncharacteristic care, his gaze never wandering far from hers. His eyes never wandered far from hers as he spoke, his expression guarded. “I worked with your mother, true, but in a different.. _capacity_ than what you might think.”

Unease stirred in Apsara at those words.  It’s as if the collar of her robe was too tight and slowly robbing her of precious air. The priestess ignored the urge to tug at her robe to loosen it.

“Your family is known and respected for their resourcefulness, especially when it comes to magic and the research of it. In fact, some of this research is kept very secret, especially the kind pertaining to trapping and transferring souls. Ordinary enough for warlocks of all kinds to harness, but your family has managed to create one such slave with memories and skills of his own.”

The priestess frowned, but remained silent. She tried to swallow, but found her throat dry. A small part of her protested. How could something like that even exist without her knowing? Baile was showing her a side of her own family she had not ever seen before, and the thought made her deeply uncomfortable. But somehow… deep inside her gut she knew he was speaking the truth.

“Your lineage is long and proud… and not without their trump cards.” Baile’s eyes flicked towards the Elenn family seal embroidered on the collar of Apsara’s robe. ”I am one of those trump cards. At your mother's behest I was recovered from my sleep and placed at your disposal.”

The quiet, accusing tone in those words hit Apsara in the gut like a hammer. Merely thinking of Baile in the role of a slave to her household made no sense to Apsara as her mind reeled.  

“You… _what_? … How can that be? You're not a magical servant, you're a sin'dorei, flesh and blood!”

Baile’s upper lip curled an inch, ghosting the motion of snarling. Smoldering anger flared in his eyes before being carefully extinguished. “I am flesh and blood… and a magical servant, both. I am bound by an oath of servitude and magic that split my soul apart. Part of that soul is contained in a locket … which is in your mother’s possession.”

The weight of those words created a curtain of silence around the pair, the rest of the world suddenly forgotten.

Questions swirled in Apsara’s head. Her knowledge about this kind of magic was limited, but she knew one thing – creatures with partial souls could never function to the extent they used to before a part of them had been taken away.

“Your soul… has been split? That explains why-”

“That is one part of the reason I can't cast magic except in very limited amounts, yes,” the paladin interrupted, anger bubbling from within him before he could get it under control. Apsara flinched, but didn’t pull her hand back from where it still lay on top of his. Baile turned his gaze away, flustered – him, of all people, flustered! – and shifted slightly.

Magic was the birthright as well as the curse of all sin’dorei. Many tread the extremely thin line between use and abuse, precariously teetering over the abyss that was magic addiction. A great number of blood elves kept their hunger in check by absorbing regular but strictly portioned doses of it, others became victims of it and did unspeakable things just to get their hands on some magic. These elves would then slowly transform into the Wretched, their outer appearance – emaciated faces, fingers transformed to claws, hollow eyes -  matching their inner desperation. Their minds were entirely consumed by need, and they would not even recognize their own family or friends anymore, often becoming a threat to those they held dear.

Those creatures tended to disappear as fast as the guards would manage to dispose of them.

As a priestess, Apsara had been taught to keep the hunger for magic in check by meditation, but the simple act of casting a spell was just as important as the ability to taste or smell. To be barred from it was like being deprived of air. For a moment, she found it hard to breathe as she tried to imagine a life without magic.

Apsara could very well imagine the magnitude of Baile’s anger and frustration. If someone as proud as himself was forced to serve in a state of perpetual magic starvation, the wrath that would be bubbling inside would be a force to be reckoned with. In a sudden flash she understood his stare when she had pulled out her Elenn ceremonial robe. It was a representation of all the things that had kept him leashed for so long.

Baile glanced across the campfire, towards the noisily snoring form of Kremor. The shaman rolled over to his side in his sleep while muttering something that Apsara didn’t quite catch. Finally, the paladin turned his gaze back to her. His anger subdued, he simply looked at her, half expectantly.

“And… What happened back in the tower reminded me of something that happened long ago. I lost control of my temper,” Baile continued in a lower voice, unwavering. He wouldn’t apologize for what he had done, even as he lowered his voice further. “I didn’t want it to end the same way it did back then.”

Even without asking, somehow Apsara knew that whoever he had rushed to defend had died.

Her heart ached at the thought.

Baile watched her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction to everything he had just told her. She knew better than to pity him. To pity the paladin was to anger him beyond reproach. He didn’t need her pity. He needed…

A thought struck Apsara.

It’s not as if she wasn’t in a position to help him. The fact the two had been brought together couldn’t have been a coincidence. Apsara knew her mother disliked her steadfast belief in fate, but she knew it wouldn’t change her perception of this chain of events.

She could free him.

She **would** free him even if she had to defy her mother – or even her whole family - to do it.

The priestess shifted on the sand and pulled her hand from where it laid on top of his, facing towards Baile fully. Her anxiety and worry faded away and were replaced by determination. She could breathe again freely, and so she inhaled in deep breaths of cool night air. For all that he had done for her – saved her life, shown her the world, fought by her side and turned to something much more than a friend - she owed him at least this much.

“I will do everything in my power to free you from your servitude. You deserve better,” she simply announced.

Baile’s eyes widened. “Apsara, you do not know-“

She shook her head, interrupting his sentence midway. Her frantic heartbeat, hammering against the cage of her ribs now, made her feel almost light-headed. “I might not know what happened a long time ago. What I do know is that my family has done wrong with what they’ve done to you. I’m an Elenn, for better or for worse. I am the one who needs to fix this.”

Baile’s resistance faded and he tugged the corners of his lips up in a small smile. “I admire your spirit - I truly do. You are persistent. Adaptive. Courageous.”

Almost instinctively Apsara leaned closer to Baile. The tall elf towered over her, firelight dancing on his  hair. The telltale burn of a blush creeped down Apsara’s ears. She barely felt it as she managed to conjure a confident smile on her face.

Baile’s tone softened. He arched an eyebrow, questioningly. “However… I’ve been in your family’s service for a very long time. Nothing short of a miracle will make Sathira hand over the locket with a part of my soul in it.”

Feeling uncharacteristically bold, Apsara chuckled quietly. “Then we will just have to make a miracle happen, won’t we?”

It was the paladin who leaned closer now. Their faces were suddenly very close to each other.

“If there is anyone capable of a miracle, it would be you,” the paladin replied, his smile widening a fraction, the warmth of it finally reaching his eyes.  In his eyes Apsara could also see a carefully hidden ocean of emotions and almost hear the unspoken words of gratitude, relief, worry.

Their breaths mingled in the cool night air. Her mind went blank as she gazed into his eyes, and he gazed back. Heartbeats passed with them just looking at each other, absorbing one another’s presence.

Before Apsara could think about pulling back, Baile closed the distance between them and softly  brushed his lips against hers. 

A wave of warmth spread across Apsara’s body, down from her neck all the way to her toes, leaving a tingling feeling in its wake. The tension that had been building between the two during their journey suddenly sparked. The priestess felt like she was floating, far away from thoughts of magical servitude and the tough reality of survival in Tanaris. She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent.

For a moment, a bittersweet thought crossed her mind. _Why would he kiss me? I’m from the family that enslaved him…_

All too soon, Baile pulled away and lifted his hand to touch her cheek. Apsara opened her eyes, breathless. He traced the outline of her jaw with a finger, smiling absent-mindedly.

“I’ve not known you for very long at all, Apsara,” Baile began, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “But your optimism and dedication shines bright indeed.” The paladin retreated and pulled his hand back. The absence of Baile’s lips against hers made her want to protest his withdrawal, blush burning her cheeks.

They both knew that what they were doing was unthinkable.

A killer and a healer. A slave and a mistress. A teacher and a student.

Kremor’s snore turned into a cough, startling the duo and snapping Apsara out of her reverie. The shaman growled noisily in his sleep and rolled over, kicking up sand under the cloak he used as a blanket.

Apsara and Baile chuckled at Kremor. The orc seemed to have an atrocious sense of timing. He had successfully reminded the two elves that they were not far from danger at all.

“We should rest. Tomorrow is going to be tough enough as it is,” Baile murmured quietly. “I… I think we’re better off talking more when we’re alone and not in the middle of a deadly desert. I will tell you all you want to know once we’re safe.”

Still dazed from the kiss, Apsara could only nod and mumble her agreement. She didn’t resist when Baile handed her his cloak so that she could wrap up in it and sleep, protected from the cool gusts of night air.  

The night had cooled down further, the frigid temperatures stinging her cheeks and fingers even as she laid down cautiously on her side. The lingering exhaustion from the battle in Alterac Valley surprised her and broke through her buzzing thoughts, forcing her asleep within minutes.


End file.
